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The  Autobiography  of 
Gurdon  Saltonstall  Hubbard 


The  Autobiography 

(9/^  Gordon  Saltonstall 

Hubbard 

PA-PA-MA-TA-BE 
"The  Swift  Walker" 

anAeauH  jjATenoT_iAe  noanus 
CAKOLINTET^'Nr^MCltV^rrNE 

L-ibarian  of  dx:  Qticasp)  Histodial  Society 


JNNELLEY  &  SONS  COMPANY 
CHRISTMAS.  MCMXI 


GURDON     SAUTONSTALU    HUBBARD 

AT    THE    AGE    OF    64 
FROM     A     PHOTOGRAPH     BY     HEBLCR 


The  Autobiography 

of  Gurdon  Saltonstall 

^Hubbard 

PA-PA-MA-TA-BE 
"The  Swift  Walker" 


WITH  AN  INTRODUCTION 

BY 

CAROLINE   M.  McILVAINE 

Librarian  of  the  Chicago  Historical  Society 


he  Ukeside 

te55   Cliiogi) 


U^!!^ 


R.  R.  DONNELLEY  &  SONS  COMPANY 
CHRISTMAS,  MCMXI 


F 
pnUi^^im*  pvtfact 


IN  procuring  The  Autobiography  of  Gurdon 
Saltonstall  Hubbard  as  the  subject  for  this 
year's  volume  in  the  series  of  The  Lakeside 
Classics,  the  publishers  believe  they  have  found 
a  book  of  interest  and  value.  The  text  of  the 
Autobiography  is  taken  from  the  manuscript 
of  the  original  Diary,  now  in  the  possession 
of  the  Chicago  Historical  Society,  as  it  ap- 
peared in  the  memorial  volume  compiled  by 
Mr.  Henry  E.  Hamilton  in  l888  for  circulation 
only  among  the  immediate  friends  of  Mr.  Hub- 
bard's family.  This  memorial  volume  has 
long  been  considered  of  value  to  book  collec- 
tors, and  especially  to  those  interested  in  the 
history  of  the  early  Northwest.  We  accord- 
ingly feel  gratified  that  we  have  obtained  per- 
mission for  a  leprint,  and  are  thereby  enabled 
to  give  the  Autobiography  the  wider  circulation 
that  its  interest  deserves. 

For  the  exhaustive  Introduction,  an  acknowl- 
edgment of  appreciation  is  due  Miss  Caroline  M. 
Mcllvaine,  Librarian  of  the  Chicago  Historical 
Society.  Miss  Mcllvaine  brings  to  her  task 
an  intimate  knowledge  of  the  history  of  the 
Northwest,  and,  having  enjoyed  the  friendship 
of  Mrs.  Hubbard,  is  particularly  well  fitted  to 
prepare  this  edition  for  the  press. 


476616 

UB  SETS 


^uBIijeffjet^*  preface 


As  heretofore,  the  series  continues  to  be 
the  handiwork  of  the  boys  of  the  School  for 
Apprentices  of  The  Lakeside  Press,  and  the 
book  again  goes  forth  to  carry,  at  this  season 
of  good  wishes,  the  felicitations  of  the  pub- 
lishers to  their  patrons  and  friends. 

THE  PUBLISHERS. 


Christmas,  191  i. 


Contend 


PAGE 

Introduction ix 

Childhood.—  Engagement  with  American 
Fur  Co. —  Mackinaw i 

First   Year   in   the    Indian    Country. — 
Marquette    Cross. —  Chicago. —  Fort 
Dearborn 28 

Mud  Lake. —  Isle  La  Cache. —  Starved 
Rock. —  Fort  Clark. —  Encounter  with 
an  Indian. —  St.  Louis 41 

Shaub-e-nee. —  Wa-ba  and  Che-mo-co-mon- 
ess. —  Tippecanoe  Battle  Ground. — 
The  Feast  of  the  Dead 52 

Fishing  in  Muskegon  Lake. —  A  Month 
in  Solitude. —  Lost  in  a  Snow  Storm. — 
Death  of  Dufrain 81 

Kalamazoo  River. —  Cosa.—  An  Accident. 
—  A  Visit. —  Wolf  Stories. —  Crooked 
Creek 107 

Attacked    by    an    Indian. —  Alexis    St. 

Martin. —  Sleeping  Bear      ....     125 

Pa-pa-ma-ta-be. —  From  St.  Joseph  to  the 
Kankakee. —  "Hubbard's     Trail." — 
Under  the  Ice. —  Peoria  and  St.  Louis     141 

1824. —  Placed  in  Charge  of  the  Illinois 
River  Trading  Posts 153 

Trouble  with  Yellow  Head. —  Danville. 
— "Winnebago  Scare." — In  the  Ohio 
River. —  Ka-ne-kuck 160 


91ntroDuct(on 


PROBABLY  no  one  life  presented  so  many 
of  the  phases  of  Chicago's  life-drama  as 
did  that  of  Gurdon  Saltonstall  Hubbard. 
The  brief  autobiography  here  reprinted  deals 
with  the  earlier  years  only.  It  remains  for  us 
to  round  out  the  picture  by  a  swift  review  of 
the  later  scenes,  and  to  try  to  so  adjust  the 
focus  that  we  may  see  the  picture  as  a  whole 
and  realize  its  relation  to  our  own  lives. 
Bom  in  Vermont,  a  descendant  of  the  Con- 
necticut colonial  governor,  Gurdon  Saltonstall, 
who  was  great-grandson  of  Sir  Richard  Sal- 
tonstall, Gurdon  Hubbard  bore,  so  far  as 
ancestry  is  able  to  imprint  it,  the  stamp  of  the 
metal  from  which  America  has  been  molded. 
But  there  was  something  else  about  Gurdon 
Hubbard  than  that  which  can  be  accounted  for 
by  ancestry. 

Leaving  his  adopted  home  in  the  Canadian 
wilderness  at  the  age  of  sixteen,  to  descend 
with  the  voyageurs  of  the  American  Fur  Com- 
pany through  the  waters  traversed  only  a  trifle 
over  a  century  before  by  the  explorers  La 
Salle  and  Tonty,  intimate  as  a  brother  with  the 
Indians,  and  yet  able  to  defend  the  whites 
from  their  treachery,  possessed  of  the  strength 
and  skill  of  the  former,  with  the  diplomacy 
ix 


^Fntrotiuction 


and  aplomb  of  the  latter,  swift  of  foot,  huge 
of  stature,  Hubbard  seems  as  he  looms  up  in 
history  likg  the  survivor  of  some  former  race, 
— a  giant  whose  youthful  adventures  might 
have  been  passed  on  by  tradition,  as  of  a 
being  more  than  human.  Something  he  un- 
doubtedly imbibed  from  the  Indians,  which, 
added  to  his  own  firm  fiber,  made  him  the 
hero  that  he  was  in  the  estimation  of  his  con- 
temporaries, and  rendered  him,  in  a  very  true 
sense,  a  representative  American,  That  he 
was  able  to  adapt  himself  to  civilization,  and 
to  infuse  into  others  something  of  the  fire 
which  burned  within  him,  is  in  large  part,  we 
believe,  the  secret  of  much  of  Chicago's 
extraordinary  advance.  If  we  have  moved 
at  a  rapid  pace,  it  is  perhaps  because  that 
pace  was  set  by  Pa-pa-ma-ta-be,  "The  Swift 
Walker." 

Having  passed  the  period  of  his  apprentice- 
ship as  a  fur-trader  while  still  a  mere  boy, 
Gurdon  Hubbard  was  formally  appointed  to 
conduct  a  trading  station  on  the  Iroquois 
River  in  lUinois,  for  that  same  company,  and 
later  assumed  the  superintendence  of  all  their 
posts  on  the  Iroquois  and  Kankakee  rivers  and 
their  tributaries,  with  headquarters  at  Dan- 
ville. This,  of  course,  involved  annual  trips  to 
Mackinaw,  the  headquarters  of  John  Jacob 
Astor  and  his  colleagues,  the  descent  of  Lake 
Michigan  in  open  Mackinaw  boats,  a  short 
stop  at  Chicago,  and  then  the  rivers  and  prai- 


gpntrotiuction 


ries  of  Illinois,  with  few  but  savages  for  friends 
at  the  outset.  In  1827  Mr.  Hubbard  was  ad- 
mitted to  a  share  in  the  profits  of  the  Ameri- 
can Fur  Company,  and  in  1828  bought  out 
their  entire  interests  in  Illinois. 

Just  what  the  American  Fur  Company  meant 
to  Illinois  it  is  difficult  for  us  of  the  present 
to  realize.  But  when  we  reflect  that  the  few 
white  settlements  sprinkled  here  and  there  in 
the  wilderness  would  have  been  practically  out 
of  touch  with  the  world  save  for  the  river 
traffic  carried  on  by  this  first  of  American 
"trusts,"  and  when  we  remember  that  the 
Indians  were  held  in  check  not  so  much  by 
force  as  by  the  self-interest  of  trade,  we  con- 
ceive its  import  to  our  forebears,  not  merely 
from  the  trade  standpoint^  but  from  the  human 
side  as  well. 

Gurdon  Hubbard  was  the  last  representative 
of  this  primitive  form  of  barter  in  Illinois. 
But  if  last  in  point  of  time,  he  was  first  in 
initiative.  He  might  be  called  the  first  com- 
mercial traveler,  in  the  modern  sense.  Before 
his  time  the  buyer  had  to  come  to  the  goods. 
Hubbard  instituted  the  principle  of  carrying 
the  goods  to  the  buyer,  not  merely  in  bring- 
ing down  the  river,  but  in  transporting  them 
overland.  Scuttling  his  Mackinaw  boats  in 
the  South  Branch  of  the  Chicago  River,  as  he 
narrates,  he  proceeded  on  foot  to  Big  Foot's 
Lake  (now  Lake  Geneva),  procured  pack- 
ponies,  and  wended  his  way  down  to  the 
xi 


3Fntrotiuctton 


Wabash,  dotting  the  plain  with  trading-posts 
as  he  went. 

The  highway  thus  estabhshed  was  known 
as  "Hubbard's  Trail,"  and  was  for  years  the 
only  well-defined  road  between  Chicago  and 
the  Wabash  country.  Although  Danville  was 
his  official  headquarters  at  this  time,  Chicago 
was  the  objective  point  whither  his  supplies 
were  brought  by  water,  and  whence  they  were 
shipped  to  the  East.  It  is  said  that  "subse- 
quent to  1822,  no  person  lived  about  the 
mouth  of  the  Chicago  River  who  did  not  know 
this  young,  brave,  and  vigorous  fur-trader. ' ' 

The  more  picturesque  features  of  our  hero's 
history  ceased  with  the  cessation  of  the  fur 
traffic  in  lUinois,  when  the  red  man,  after  the 
last  brave  stand  of  Black  Hawk,  withdrew  to 
reservations  beyond  the  Mississippi.  Here 
his  own  account  leaves  off.  But  the  rest  has 
become  part  of  the  recorded  history  of  the 
state.  Moreover,  his  widow  survived  until 
within  a  few  years,  and  the  present  writer  has 
listened  to  tales  of  the  later  times  from  her 
lips.  So  short  has  been  the  space  between 
the  primitive  and  the  advanced  stages  of  Chi- 
cago's "civilization." 

Not  to  every  man  is  it  given  to  bridge 
with  his  life-span  the  chasm  between  two 
epochs  of  history.  In  the  year  that  Gurdon 
Hubbard  first  visited  Chicago,  Illinois  emerged 
from  territorial  swaddling-clothes.  In  that 
same  year  died  George  Rogers  Clark,  whose 
xii 


3Fntrotiuction 


defense  of  the  country  northwest  of  the  Ohio 
had  saved  us  from  British  dominion.  Before 
Gurdon  Hubbard  died,  the  Civil  War  had  been 
fought,  and  Chicago  had  been  transformed 
from  a  paHsaded  fort  surrounded  by  savages 
to  the  metropohs  which  in  only  five  years 
would  be  selected  as  the  site  for  the  World's 
Columbian  Exposition.  Andreas,  in  his  His- 
tory of  Chicago,  has  stated  that  ' '  only  a  single 
man  [Gurdon  Hubbard]  became  identified  with 
the  modern  commerce  and  trade  of  the  city, 
who  had  been  connected  with  the  rude  Indian 
traffic  which  centered  in  Chicago  in  the  earlier 
times." 

Sensing  the  coming  change,  Hubbard  had 
begun,  long  before  he  made  Chicago  his  perma- 
nent residence,  to  provide  the  Chicago  market 
with  pork.  He  was,  in  fact,  the  first '  'packer'  * 
purveying  to  this  port.  Collecting  hogs  from 
far  and  wide,  he  would  store  them  on  the  river 
front,  and  whether  because  of  the  honesty  of 
the  early  inhabitants,  or  the  esteem  in  which 
Hubbard  was  held,  these  carcasses  would  not 
be  molested  though  they  remained  an  entire 
winter  in  the  open,  as  in  the  winter  of  1828-29. 
Prosaic  ?  Perhaps,  but  not  so  the  far-reaching 
principle  of  taking  the  merchandise  to  the  mart, 
and  the  sagacity  which  taught  this  backwoods- 
man where  that  mart  was  destined  to  be.  In 
1834  Gurdon  Hubbard  went  to  Chicago  to 
remain  for  the  rest  of  his  life,  becoming  known 
as  the  largest  packer  in  the  West. 


SfntroUuction 


Upon  the  corner  of  La  Salle  and  South 
Water  streets,  which  at  that  time  seemed  very 
far  west,  he  erected  a  large  brick  building, 
the  first  of  its  kind  in  the  city.  No  sky-scraper 
of  the  present  day  ever  called  out  the  comment 
excited  by  this  structure.  There  were  only 
about  five  or  six  hundred  inhabitants  in  the 
village,  and  what  could  a  man  want  with  a  co- 
lossal building  like  that?  It  was  christened 
"Hubbard's  Folly,"  and  stood  up  there  a 
laughing-stock  for  all  the  world.  In  it  Mr. 
Hubbard  began  to  store  his  pork  and  other 
produce,  but  in  quantities  greatly  in  excess  of 
the  immediate  needs  of  the  townspeople.  How 
did  he  expect  to  get  rid  of  it  ? 

Mr.  E.  O.  Gale  in  his  Reminiscences  of  Early 
Chicago  has  a  picturesque  account  of  the  arrival 
off  Chicago's  shore,  on  the  25th  of  May,  1835, 
of  a  certain  tight  little  brig  Illinois,  bringing 
himself  and  brother  William  with  their  parents, 
and,  among  other  well-known  famiUes,  that  of 
our  lamented  friend  and  "oldest  citizen," 
Fernando  Jones.  The  brig  being  unable  to 
land  in  the  then  condition  of  the  harbor,  the 
passengers  found  themselves  conveyed  to  land 
by  lusty  French  Canadians  in  birch-bark 
Mackinaw  boats,  which  also  served  as  lighters 
for  the  cargo,  the  whole,  together  with  the 
household  goods  of  the  passengers,  being  de- 
posited at  a  certain  large  warehouse  a  little 
way  up  the  river.  Quoting  Mr.  Gale's  charac- 
teristic manner  of  narration: 


5Fntrotiuction 


"As  soon  as  we  arrived  at  the  warehouse, 
we  noticed  a  rather  large  man,  put  up  in  fine 
shape  for  an  athlete,  with  dark  hair  and  eyes, 
prominent  nose,  high  cheek  bones,  large,  firm 
mouth  and  strong  face,  showing  great  force 
of  character,  but  withal  a  voice  and  smile  so 
pleasing  that  we  took  to  him  at  once,  as  a 
child  to  its  mother. 

"'Who  is  he?'  we  asked  a  by-stander. 

"  'Why,  that  is  the  proprietor  of  the  warehouse, 
Gurdon  S.  Hubbard.  He  is  just  as  nature 
labeled  him.  He  can  outrun  or  outwalk  any 
Indian,  takes  difficulties  as  you  would  dessert 
after  dinner,  seems  to  hanker  after  them,  is  as 
true  as  steel,  with  a  heart  as  tender  as  any 
woman's.  He  is  worth  five  hundred  ordinary 
men  to  any  town.'  " 

Mr.  Gale  asserts  that  the  cargo  brought  by 
the  Illinois  was  the  first  cargo  of  general 
freight  ever  landed  in  Chicago.  The  sea- 
tossed  passengers,  after  depositing  their  goods 
at  the  warehouse,  repaired  to  the  Green  Tree 
Tavern.  Apparently  the  utility  of  the  big 
warehouse  was  being  vindicated. 

In  1836  Mr.  Hubbard  built  a  warehouse 
fronting  on  Kinzie  Street  and  the  river,  organiz- 
ing the  firm  of  Hubbard  &  Co.,  in  which 
Henry  G.  and  Elijah  K.  Hubbard  were  asso- 
ciated with  him.  Not  content  with  the  irreg- 
ular craft  occasionally  visiting  Chicago's  wa- 
ters, they,  with  Pratt,  Taylor  &  Co.  of  Buffalo, 
established    the   Eagle   Line   of  vessels   and 


S^ntrotiuction 


steamers,  plying  between  Chicago,  Buffalo,  and 
the  Upper  Lakes.  This  is  considered  to  have 
been  the  first  systematic  carrying  service  at 
this  port.  The  forwarding  and  commission 
business  of  Hubbard  &  Co.  was  greatly  ex- 
tended. The  fated  Lady  Elgin,  lost  in  i860, 
the  pride  of  the  Lake  Superior  line,  originally 
cost  nearly  $100,000. 

But  Gurdon  Hubbard  was  more  than  a  mer- 
chant. In  one  corner  of  his  warehouse  in  1836 
was  the  first  bank  in  Chicago,  a  branch  of  the 
Illinois  State  Bank,  of  which  he  was  a  director. 
The  first  insurance  policy  ever  issued  in  Chicago 
was  written  by  him  in  that  year  for  the  ^tna 
Company,  whose  representative  he  remained 
for  over  thirty  years. 

Illustrative  of  his  leadership  in  civic  matters 
is  the  following  item  in  The  Chicago  American 
of  October  10,  1835:  "We  understand  that 
G.  S.  Hubbard  has  ordered,  on  his  own  respon- 
sibility, a  fire  engine  with  the  necessary  appar- 
atus to  be  sent  to  Chicago  immediately  from 
the  East.  Individual  responsibility  being  the 
only  means  offered  for  obtaining  this  important 
instrument  of  protection,  we  trust  our  citizens 
will  avail  themselves  of  this  convenience  by 
establishing  a  fire  company  without  delay." 
The  same  man  who  swam  the  river  to  extin- 
guish the  flames  at  Fort  Dearborn  in  1827, 
during  the  Winnebago  War,  was  the  first  to  see 
and  supply  the  need  of  later  days.  We  are 
glad  to  know  that  his  engine  was  soon  put  to 


^Tntrotiuction 


use  as  "Fire  King  Engine  No.  i,"  and  that 
another  was  added.  Volunteer  companies 
were  organized  to  draw  the  engines,  and  foot- 
races between  rival  brigades  became  a  favorite 
diversion  in  Chicago. 

The  first  water- works  in  Chicago,  located  at 
the  foot  of  Lake  Street,  were  operated  by  the 
Chicago  Hydraulic  Company,  incorporated 
January  i8,  1836,  with  a  capital  of  $250,000, 
Gurdon  Hubbard  being  one  of  the  incorpora- 
tors. Owing  to  the  panic  of  1837  the  works 
were  not  in  operation  until  1840,  supplying  the 
South  and  part  of  the  West  sides  with  water. 
The  water  was  not  of  the  best  quality  perhaps, 
and  the  log  pipes  may  have  leaked  a  little,  but 
it  was  a  brave  effort  in  the  right  direction. 
The  city  saw  that  it  would  work,  and  in  1852 
bought  out  the  company. 

The  spirit  of  "individual  responsibility" 
seemed  to  be  the  watchword  of  Gurdon  Hub- 
bard throughout.  It  is  interesting  to  note  how 
far  the  history  of  the  city  has  been  altered  by 
this  element. 

Chicago  was  incorporated  as  a  town  in  the 
year  1833.  In  the  following  year,  the  year 
that  brought  Gurdon  Hubbard  here  as  a  per- 
manent resident,  the  corporate  limits  of  the 
town  were  extended  by  virtue  of  an  act  adopted 
February  ii,  1834,  so  as  to  include  "all  land 
lying  east  of  State  Street  to  the  lake  shore  from 
Chicago  Avenue  and  Twelfth  Street,  except 
the  military  reservation, "  which  extended  from 


3Fntrotiuction 


the  river  south  to  Madison  Street.  At  the 
election  of  August  ii,  1834,  Gurdon  Hubbard 
was  chosen  one  of  the  town  trustees,  to  serve 
with  John  Kinzie,  E.  Goodrich,  J.  K.  Boyer, 
and  J.  S.  C.  Hogan.  The  city  had  gained  in 
territory,  but  it  had  also  gained  a  citizen  with- 
out whose  aid  Chicago  might  have  remained  a 
village,  while  the  metropolis  was  located  else- 
where. This  brings  us  to  the  epoch  of  the 
Illinois  and  Michigan  canal. 

As  long  before  as  1673,  when  the  explorer 
Joliet  had  passed  through  this  region,  he  had 
left  a  verbal  record  with  Father  Dablon  as  to 
the  feasibility  of  a  canal  which  would  facilitate 
the  passage  from  Lake  Michigan  to  the  Illinois, 
and  thence,  as  the  enthusiastic  friar  adds,  "to 
China  and  Japan. ' '  La  Salle,  who  was  intensely 
practical,  avoided  the  Chicago  portage  in 
favor  of  the  Kankakee,  whenever  possible,  and 
urged  the  Ohio  and  Wabash  rivers  as  better 
waterways  to  the  Illinois  country,  thus  avoid- 
ing the  long  voyage  through  Lake  Michigan. 
Gurdon  Hubbard  himself,  as  a  fur-trader,  had 
preferred  the  St.  Joseph  and  Kankakee  portage 
to  the  "delays  and  hardships  of  the  old  route 
through  Mud  Lake  and  the  Desplaines."  As 
we  have  seen,  he  was  the  first  to  employ  ponies 
to  transport  his  goods  directly  from  the  Chicago 
River  to  the  southern  settlements.  No  one 
knew  better  than  he  the  need  of  a  canal  or 
railroad. 

In  1822  Congress  granted  the  right  of  way 
xviii 


3Fntroliuction 


across  the  public  lands  "for  the  route  of  a 
canal  connecting  the  Illinois  River  with  the 
south  bend  of  Lake  Michigan,"  followed  five 
years  later  by  the  grant  of  300,000  acres  to  aid 
in  its  construction.  As  representative  of  Ver- 
milion County  in  the  Illinois  General  Assembly 
of  1832-33,  Gurdon  Hubbard  introduced  a 
bill  for  the  construction  of  the  Illinois  and 
Michigan  canal.  It  was  passed  by  the  House, 
but  defeated  in  the  Senate.  He  immediately 
substituted  a  bill  fo.  a  railroad,  defeated  by 
only  the  casting  vote  of  the  presiding  oflQcer. 
Every  session  of  the  legislature  thereafter 
found  Mr.  Hubbard  present  to  urge  the 
passage  of  a  canal  bill,  until  it  was  effected  in 
the  session  of  1835-36.  It  is  Hon.  Henry  W. 
Blodgett  who  states  that  Illinois  owes  a  debt 
to  Mr.  Hubbard  which  has  never  been  duly 
accredited  to  him;  namely,  the  settlement  of 
the  question  of  the  location  of  the  terminus  of 
the  canal.  It  had  been  strongly  urged  that 
"it  would  be  cheaper  to  follow  up  the  Calumet, 
to  what  is  known  as  the  Sag,  and  thence  down 
the  valley  of  the  Desplaines  River,  than  to  cut 
through  the  hard  ground  between  the  south 
branch  of  the  Chicago  River  and  the  Des- 
plaines. After  hearing  the  arguments  upon 
this  point,  Mr.  Hubbard  took  a  map  and  called 
the  attention  of  the  members  to  the  fact  that 
the  mouth  of  the  Calumet  River  is  within  a  few 
hundred  yards  of  the  Indiana  state  line,  and 
suggested  that  it  was  expected  that  wherever  the 
xix 


^Fntrotiurtion 


canal  terminated,  a  great  city  would  grow  up, 
and  pertinently  asked,  whether  it  was  desirable 
that  the  coming  city  should  be  as  much  of  it 
in  the  state  of  Indiana  as  in  Illinois,  when  the 
entire  expense  of  construction  would  devolve 
upon  our  state.  This  practical  view  of  the 
question  settled  it,  and  the  mouth  of  the  Chicago 
River  was  made  the  terminus  instead  of  the 
mouth  of  the  Calumet."  Thus  had  the  faith 
and  courage  of  Chicago's  champion  saved  her 
from  a  fate  of  possible  mediocrity  or  extinction 
as  a  city. 

The  first  Board  of  Canal  Commissioners 
consisted  of  Gurdon  S.  Hubbard,  William  F. 
Thornton,  and  William  B.  Archer,  who  served 
until  1 84 1.  When  the  first  spadefuls  of  earth 
were  dug  at  the  commencement  of  the  canal 
on  the  historic  Fourth  of  July,  1836,  the  strong 
hands  and  long  arms  of  Gurdon  Hubbard 
wielded  the  spade,  and  the  closing  address  con- 
sisted of  his  memories  of  the  time  when  canoes 
were  the  only  craft  plying  on  Illinois  waters, 
and  the  luckless  trader  who  essayed  the 
"Chicago  portage"  must  wade  waist-deep  in 
the  morass  of  Mud  Lake,  and  spend  his  first 
leisure  moments  in  removing  the  bloodsuckers 
which  infested  it. 

It  was  impossible  to  exaggerate  the  impor- 
tance of  the  canal  to  Chicago.  Instantly  she 
became  the  pivotal  point  of  the  commerce  of 
the  West  as  then  known,  of  the  region  of  the 
lower  Mississippi,  which  had  hitherto  gone  to 


^Fntrotiuction 


New  Orleans  for  a  port,  and  a  nucleus  for  the 
emigration  which  was  to  people  the  untraveled 
areas  of  the  Farther  West.  Chicago  had 
"arrived."  The  East  reached  out  to  us,  and 
even  Europe  became  aware  of  our  existence. 

But  the  canal  was  not  completed  in  a  day. 
That  event  did  not  occur  until  1848.  Mean- 
while the  money  was  to  be  raised  to  pay  for 
the  work.  Land  had  been  apportioned  for 
this  purpose,  and  it  must  be  sold.  A  govern- 
ment land  office  was  established  in  Chicago. 
The  expression  "a  land  office  business"  has 
a  peculiar  significance  in  this  part  of  the 
country,  traceable  to  this  period.  Everybody 
dealt  in  land.  Whatever  a  man's  other  busi- 
ness, he  carried  real  estate  "on  the  side." 
Chicago  lots  were  bandied  about  like  wheat 
on  the  market.  Perhaps  no  better  idea  of 
the  nature  of  the  transactions  can  be  given 
than  an  account  of  a  sale  effected  by  Gurdon 
Hubbard,  which  appeared  in  the  Sunday  Times 
of  October  24,  1875,  as  follows: 

"  Early  in  the  spring  of  1835,  about  the  month  of 
March,  Mr.  Hubbard  purchased,  with  two  others, 
Messrs.  Russell  and  Mather,  what  has  since  been 
known  as  Russell  &  Mather's  addition  to  Chicago. 
This  tract  comprised  eighty  acres,  and  was  bounded 
on  the  south  by  Kinzie  Street,  on  the  east  by  the 
river,  on  the  north  by  Chicago  Avenue,  and  then  ran 
west  to  Halsted  Street  and  beyond.  For  these 
eighty  acres  they  paid  $5,000.  At  that  time  one 
section  of  the  prospective  city  was  as  desirable  as 
another,  but  time  has  developed  that  this  particular 
eighty  acres  was  one  of  the  most  undesirable  within 
zxi 


3Fntrot!Uction 


the  entire  territory  now  embraced  within  the  city 
limits.  A  few  months  after  the  purchase,  Mr.  Hub- 
bard had  occasion  to  visit  New  York  City,  and  to 
his  surprise  found  the  rage  for  Chicago  real  estate 
at  a  point  where  it  might  be  called  'wild.*  Having 
sought  and  received  the  consent  of  one  of  the  part- 
ners who  lived  in  Connecticut,  he  looked  up  an 
engraver,  gave  him  such  a  sketch  of  the  lay  of  the 
land  as  he  could  call  up  from  memory,  had  a  plat 
prepared,  and  from  this  plat,  without  any  actual 
subdivision  of  the  land,  sold  half  of  it  at  public 
auction  for  $8o,000.  This  within  three  or  four 
months  after  paying  $5,000.  News  of  this  transaction 
reached  Chicago  in  the  course  of  stage-coach  time, 
but  it  was  generally  discredited,  until  Mr.  Hubbard 
returned  with  the  positive  confirmation;  and  the  — 
well,  then,  every  man  who  owned  a  [garden  patch 
stood  on  his  head,  imagined  himself  a  millionaire, 
put  up  corner  lots  to  fabulous  figures,  never  could 
ask  enough,  which  made  him  mad  that  he  did  not 
ask  more." 

The  Chicago  Historical  Society,  by  gift  of 
one  of  Mr.  Mather's  descendants,  Judge  James 
H.  Roberts,  has  come  into  possession  of  what 
appears  to  be  the  identical  plat  made  by  Mr. 
Hubbard  for  that  "addition,"  with  manuscript 
annotations  in  Mr.  Hubbard's  own  large,  firm 
handwriting. 

Of  course  unscrupulous  agents  sprang  up, 
selling  lots  which  did  not  exist,  and  too  trust- 
ing merchants  were  induced  to  give  credit  on 
paper  Eldorados.  Speculation  finally  passed 
all  bounds,  and  in  1837,  the  very  year  of  the 
incorporation  of  Chicago  as  a  city,  occurred  a 
great  financial  panic.  In  all  of  the  distressing 
times  which  followed,  the  rock-like  integrity 


^Pntrotiuction 


of  Gurdon  Hubbard,  together  with  his  wide 
acquaintance  as  a  former  representative  of  the 
American  Fur  Company,  stood  Chicago  in  good 
stead.  He  and  others  Uke  him  succeeded  in 
keeping  the  substantial  business  of  Chicago  on 
a  sound  basis.  The  opening  up  of  the  agri- 
cultural resources  of  Illinois  and  the  adjacent 
states,  furthered  by  the  shipping  facilities 
newly  inaugurated,  prevented  disaster,  and  at 
last,  in  1848,  the  canal  was  triumphantly 
completed,  with  Chicago  at  its  head,  now  a 
well-known  commercial  center. 

Gurdon  Hubbard  witnessed  four  wars  during 
his  hf etime, — the  War  of  1 8 1 2 ,  which  occurred 
in  his  childhood;  the  Winnebago  War  of  1827, 
centering  at  Fort  Dearborn,  of  which  he  him- 
self tells  the  story  in  the  following  pages;  the 
Black  Hawk  War  of  1832,  in  which  he  acted 
as  scout,  and  furnished  the  provisions,  am- 
munition, and  transportation  wagons  for  the 
Vermilion  County  militia;  and  lastly,  the 
Civil  War.  For  a  record  of  his  activities 
in  the  latter  conflict,  we  are  indebted  to  a 
Biographical  Sketch  of  Gurdon  Saltonstall 
Hubbard y  read  before  the  Chicago  Historical 
Society,  April  16,  iQoy,  by  Henry  E. 
Hamilton.  .  .     Mr.  Hamilton  writes: 

"Politically  he  was  a  Whig,  and  in  the  Log-Cabin 
Hard-Cider  campaign  of  1840,  he,  with  John  H. 
Kinzie,  George  W.  Dole,  and  others,  was  selected  as 
a  delegate  to  the  Whig  convention  which  was  held 
at  Springfield.  They  took  with  them  a  full-rigged 
ship,  wluch  was  mounted  on  wheels,  emblematical 
xxiii 


3Fntroliuction 


not  only  of  the  Ship  of  State,  but  of  the  great  com- 
mercial capital  of  this  state,  which  they  then  believed 
Chicago  was  destined  to  become. 

"After  the  formation  of  the  Republican  party,  Mr. 
Hubbard  transferred  his  allegiance  to  that  party,  and 
with  all  his  energy  advocated  its  principles  and 
worked  for  its  success.  He  had  long  been  a 
personal  friend  and  admirer  of  Lincoln,  and  by  his 
efforts  contributed  largely  to  that  gentleman's  nom- 
ination. He  was  one  of  the  committee  that  erected 
the  Wigwam,  at  the  southeast  corner  of  Lake  and 
Market  streets,  the  building  in  which  Lincoln  was 
nominated  for  the  presidency  in  May,  i860.  Asso- 
ciated with  Mr.  Hubbard  on  that  committee  were 
Charles  N.  Holden,  Peter  Page,  Edward  Ransom, 
and  Sylvester  Lind.  At  the  breaking  out  of  the  Civil 
War,  he  gave  freely  of  his  time,  and  contributed 
largely  of  his  means,  in  raising  and  equipping  the 
troops,  and  was  foremost  in  every  enterprise  organ- 
ized by  the  citizens  to  aid  the  government  and  pre- 
serve the  Union." 

Mr.  Hubbard  was  himself  commissioned  a 
captain  of  the  Second  Board  of  Trade  Regi- 
ment (the  88th  Illinois  Volunteers). 

In  the  year  1868  Gurdon  Hubbard's  great 
packing  house  was  destroyed  by  fire,  and 
he  never  resumed  the  business.  Soon  after 
came  the  loss  of  the  Superior,  the  steamer 
which  he  owned  in  partnership  with  A.  T. 
Spencer,  having  many  years  before  estab- 
lished a  transportation  Hne  to  Lake  Superior. 
In  1 87 1  occurred  the  Chicago  fire,  which 
destroyed  his  property  and  his  business, 
leaving  him  financially  crippled.  From  this 
time  he  retired  to  private  life,  but  not  to 
inactivity. 


3Fntrol»uctiott 


One  of  the  founders  of  St.  James*  Church, 
the  first  Episcopalian  Church  in  Chicago,  he 
worked  for  its  welfare  until  such  time  as  the 
growing  conviction  of  belief  in  the  principles 
of  the  Reformed  Episcopal  Church  caused 
him,  at  much  personal  sacrifice  in  the  way  of 
friends  and  prestige,  to  adopt  the  doctrines  and 
form  of  worship  of  the  latter. 

The  Chicago  Historical  Society  has  many 
gracious  memories  of  Mr.  Hubbard,  who  was 
a  devoted  member  of  the  society  for  many  years. 
The  hospitality  of  his  home  was  proverbial. 
The  writer  recalls  a  story  related  to  her  by 
Mrs.  Hubbard,  of  entertaining  a  house-party 
of  friends  from  the  East,  when  in  their  midst 
one  day  appeared  Shaub-e-nee,  the  Indian  chief, 
with  his  wife  and  grandchild.  No  thought  of 
turning  away  even  this  unexpected  guest 
occurred  to  the  Hubbards,  but,  with  true 
pioneer  tact,  having  nothing  better,  they 
offered  Shaub-e-nee  the  wood-shed,  which  to 
him  was  a  palatial  dwelling,  in  which  he  re- 
mained in  great  state  for  three  weeks.  This 
was  during  the  last  days  of  the  old  "Friend 
of  the  Whites, ' '  and  is  only  an  added  incident 
of  the  many  which  show  how  long  the  mem- 
ory of  kindness  had  persisted,  and  how  much 
both  Indian  and  white  man  owed  to  the  hon- 
esty and  courage  of  him  who  never  betrayed 
a  friend  of  any  color. 

We  are  told  by  some  of  those  who  had  a 
part  in  it  that  the  home  life  of  this  man  was, 


3fittrotiuction 


if  possible,  more  worthy  of  emulation  than  his 
public  career.  All  energy  and  strength  abroad, 
he  was  all  tenderness  and  solicitude  at  home, 
watching  over  and  anticipating  the  wants  of 
all  his  household  with  almost  maternal  devotion. 
In  1 83 1  Mr.  Hubbard  was  united  in  marriage 
to  Miss  Elenora  Berry,  of  Urbana,  Ohio,  who 
died  in  Chicago  seven  years  later,  six  weeks 
after  the  birth  of  their  son  Gurdon  S.  Hub- 
bard, Jr.,  still  a  resident  of  this  city.  In  1843 
he  was -married  to  Miss  Mary  Ann  Hubbard, 
who  had  come  to  Chicago  with  her  parents, 
Ahira  Hubbard  and  Serena  Tucker,  of  Middle- 
borough,  Mass.,  in  1836.  About  this  ideal 
union  romances  might  be  woven,  for  Mrs. 
Hubbard  became  a  leader  in  the  simple  social 
life  that  centered  about  the  Kinzies,  Ogdens, 
Doles,  Russells,  Hamiltons,  Skinners,  and 
others  of  the  old  North  Side  circle  whose  gra- 
cious hospitality  deservedly  became  traditional, 
because  it  was  truly  gentle  and  sincere. 

In  1868,  when  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Hubbard  cele- 
brated their  silver  wedding  and  the  fiftieth  anni- 
versary of  Mr.  Hubbard's  coming  to  Chicago, 
the  guests  at  this  thoroughly  representative 
gathering  were  requested  to  register  their  names, 
with  the  dates  of  birth  and  arrival  in  Chicago, 
and  this  album  is  now  numbered  among  the 
most  precious  treasures  of  the  Historical  So- 
ciety. At  this  period  the  Hubbard  home,  said 
to  have  been  the  finest  residence  in  Chicago 
when  it  was  built,  stood  surrounded  by  elabo- 


^Fntrobuction 


rate  gardens  on  La  Salle  Avenue,  facing  Lo- 
cust Street,  and  was  one  of  the  well-known 
"places"  of  that  day,  when  stately  homes 
set  in  grounds  an  entire  square  in  extent 
were  characteristic  of  this  section  of  the  city. 
Gurdon  Hubbard  died  at  the  age  of  eighty- 
four,  September  14,  1886,  and  his  funeral  is 
still  remembered,  for  it  filled  St.  James'  Church 
with  the  most  remarkable  gathering  of  early 
residents  ever  assembled  there.  A  massive 
bronze  tablet  commemorative  of  his  life  was 
erected  in  the  Chicago  Historical  Society's 
Building,  by  his  devoted  wife,  shortly  before  her 
death,  which  occurred  in  1 909.  The  tablet 
bears  the  finely  sculptured  head  of  Mr.  Hub- 
bard, framed  between  giant  oak-trees,  and 
below  the  legend: 

"  Voices  from  afar  off  call  us 
To  pause  and  listen." 

This  tablet,  together  with  a  short  street  on 
the  South  Side,  which  bears  his  name,  are 
the  only  forms  of  public  commemoration  of 
Gurdon  Hubbard  in  Chicago. 

It  is  with  keenest  pleasure,  therefore,  that 
we  see  this  autobiography — at  once  a  monu- 
ment to  its  author  and  a  contribution  toward 
the  formation  of  Chicago's  civic  consciousness 
— brought  to  light  at  this  Christmas  season 
by  The  Lakeside  Press. 

Caroline  M.  McIlvaine. 


€I)e  ^utoBio0rap{)p  of 

dEJutDon  ^altonjstall  l^ubbarn 


CHILDHOOD.  — ENGAGEMENT     WITH 
AMERICAN  FUR  CO.— MACKINAW. 

I  WAS  born  in  Windsor,  Vermont,  August 
•  22,  1802.  My  father  was  Elizur  Hubbard, 
the  son  of  George  Hubbard,  an  officer  in 
the  war  of  the  Revolution,  and  Thankful 
Hatch .  My  mother  was  Abigal  Sage ,  daughter 
of  General  Comfort  Sage  and  Sarah  Hamlin, 
of  Middletown,  Connecticut. 

My  first  recollection  of  events  was  the  great 
eclipse  of  the  sun  about  the  year  1806,  while 
walking  with  my  mother  in  the  garden.  The 
impression  made  upon  my  mind  by  the  strange 
and  unnatural  appearance  of  things  has  lasted 
to  the  present  time.  The  white  stage  horses 
that  were  passing,  to  my  vision  appeared  yel- 
low, and  looking  up  to  my  mother  I  discovered 
that  her  face  also  appeared  yellow,  as  did  all 
the  surroundings.  I  was  so  frightened  I  did 
not  recover  from  it  for  some  time. 

I  cannot  remember  at  what  age  I  com- 
menced going  to  school,  but  the  fact  of  a  dis- 
like for  books,  from  that  time  up  to  the  age  of 
thirteen,  I  do  not  forget.  I  was  always  plead- 
ing to  be  excused,  and  my  indulgent  mother 


€l)e  ^iitobiograpftp  of 


too  often  granted  my  request.  I  was  often 
truant  and  escaped  punishment. 

My  father  was,  by  profession,  a  lawyer,  but 
having  entered  into  some  speculations  about 
the  year  i8iO,  in  the  fall  of  1812  he  lost  his 
property,  and  my  Aunt  Saltonstall  invited  me 
to  her  house,  and  influenced  her  son-in-law, 
the  Rev.  Daniel  Huntington,  to  take  me  and  a 
boy  of  about  my  age  to  educate. 

Accordingly,  in  November  of  that  year,  I  went 
to  Bridgewater,  Massachusetts,  and  entered 
upon  a  course  of  studies,  living  in  Mr.  Hunt- 
ington's family,  where  my  aunt  also  resided. 

I  was  very  deficient  in  my  education,  but 
the  winter  passed  pleasantly  and  I  made  fair 
progress  in  my  studies. 

My  father's  misfortuflbs  continued,  and  he 
became  very  poor,  which  I  felt  so  keenly  as  to 
make  me  miserable  and  discontented.  I  con- 
stantly pleaded  to  be  permitted  to  return  home, 
and  when,  in  the  following  winter,  I  learned 
that  my  father  had  fallen  into  still  deeper 
trouble  and  had  determined  to  go  to  Montreal, 
there  to  practice  his  profession,  I  was  incon- 
solable; and  as  I  had  lost  all  interest  in  my 
studies,  I  was  promised  that  I  should  return 
home  in  the  spring. 

In  the  middle  of  the  month  of  April  follow- 
ing I  started  for  my  home,  and  a  few  days' 
'  -avel  by  coach  brought  me  to  my  parents,  and 
ibout  the  first  of  May,  1815,  they,  with  their 
six  children,  of  whom  I  was  the  eldest,  started 


for  Canada.  On  reaching  Montreal,  my  father 
learned  that  he  could  not  be  admitted  to  prac- 
tice, as  he  was  an  American  citizen,  and  by  a 
new  law  of  the  Dominion  a  residence  of  five 
years  would  be  required  before  he  could  be 
allowed  to  practice  his  profession.  He,  how- 
ever, took  a  house  and  kept  boarders,  by 
which,  with  the  fees  he  earned  as  consulting 
attorney,  he  received  enough  to  barely  support 
his  family,  never  having  a  cent  to  spare  beyond 
their  necessary  wants. 

My  first  winter  there  I  employed  in  small 
traflfic,  buying  from  Vermont  farmers  the  rem- 
nants of  their  loads  of  poultry,  butter,  cheese, 
etc.,  and  peddling  them,  from  which  I  realized 
from  eighty  to  one  hundred  dollars,  all  of 
which  went  into  the  family  treasury.  The 
capital  with  which  I  embarked  in  this  enter- 
prise was  twenty-five  cents,  and  was  kindly 
loaned  me  by  Horatio  Gates. 

In  the  month  of  April,  i8l6,  my  father 
procured  for  me  a  situation  in  the  hardware 
store  of  John  Frothingham,  where  I  received 
for  my  services  my  board  only.  I  was  the  boy 
of  the  store — slept  on  the  counter,  worked 
hard,  and  attended  faithfully  to  my  duties,  and 
thus  won  the  good  will  of  all  the  clerks.  I  had 
but  one  intimate  friend  outside  of  the  store, 
named  John  Dyde,  whom  I  occasionally  visited 
evenings.  His  father  kept  a  boarding-house, 
where  Mr.  William  Matthews,  agent  of  the 
American  Fur  Company,  boarded. 

3 


€|)e  Slutobiograp{)p  of 


Mr.  John  Jacob  Astor  about  this  time  in- 
structed Mr.  Matthews  to  engage  twelve  young 
men  as  clerks,  and  one  hundred  Canadian  voy- 
ageurs,  and  to  purchase  a  quantity  of  goods  for 
the  Indian  trade,  to  be  transferred  in  batteaux 
manned  by  these  voyageurs,  and  to  report  there- 
with to  Ramsey  Crooks,  manager  at  Mackinaw, 
Michigan.  This  expedition  was  to  leave  Mon- 
treal early  in  May,  i8i8,  and  to  proceed  as 
rapidly  as  possible  to  its  place  of  destination. 

Visiting  my  friend  Dyde  one  evening,  he 
told  me  of  this,  and  that  he  was  trying  to 
prevail  upon  his  father  and  mother  to  procure 
for  him  an  engagement  with  the  Fur  Com- 
pany as  one  of  the  twelve  clerks.  He  being 
then  but  eighteen  years  old,  his  parents  opposed 
it  on  account  of  his  youth,  and  Mr.  Matthews 
also  discouraged  the  idea;  yet  he  continued 
his  efforts,  and  finally  obtained  their  consent, 
and  informed  me  of  his  good  fortune. 

The  expedition  was  the  subject  of  frequent 
conversations  between  us,  and  I  also  became 
desirous  of  being  employed;  my  disposition  to 
go  increased  each  time  we  met,  and  I  finally 
ventured  to  mention  the  subject  to  my  father 
and  mother,  but  they  only  laughed  at  the  idea, 
saying  Mr.  Matthews  would  not  engage  John, 
as  he  wanted  men,  and  not  boys;  that  John 
was  not  eighteen  and  I  not  sixteen.  And 
though  I  was  thus  put  off,  I  was  not  wholly 
discouraged. 

Time  passed  on  and  April  was  near  at  hand. 

4 


OBurtion  ^altonjeftafl  i^ubfiarti 

One  morning  John  came  into  the  store,  his 
countenance  beaming  with  joy,  and  announced 
that  Mr.  Matthews  had  promised  to  take  him. 
"Oh!"  said  he,  "I  wish  you  could  go  with 
me,  but  it  is  of  no  use  to  try.  It  was  hard 
work  to  induce  Mr.  Matthews  to  take  me, 
because  I  was  not  old  enough,  and  besides  I 
am  the  twelfth,  and  the  youngest  by  four  years. 
I  am  to  get  one  hundred  dollars  advanced  to 
purchase  my  outfit."  I  don't  know  what  in- 
duced me  to  make  any  further  effort,  but  I  still 
felt  there  was  a  chance. 

I  could  not  help  crying,  and  when  West, 
the  oldest  clerk,  inquired  the  cause,  I  told  him. 
"Why,  Gurdon,"  he  said,  "you  don't  want  to 
go  among  the  Indians.  You  could  not  endure 
the  hardships.  What  a  fool  you  are  to  think 
of  it.  Don't  give  it  another  thought.  We  all 
like  you  here.  Stick  by  us,  and  rise  as  you 
will  be  sure  to.  Mr.  Frothingham  has  not  a 
word  to  say  against  you.  He  knows  you  have 
done  your  duty,  and  in  time  will  advance  you. 
So  give  up  the  idea." 

Just  then  Mr.  Frothingham  came  in,  and, 
noticing  me,  asked  what  was  the  matter.  I 
did  not  reply,  but  cried.  When  West  told 
him,  he  said  I  had  a  foolish  notion. 

I  requested  leave  of  absence  for  the  day  and 
night  to  go  home  (my  father  then  living  at  the 
foot  of  the  mountain),  which  he  granted.  I 
was  not  long  in  reaching  home,  though  it  was 
about  three  miles. 


€l)e  ^utoBiograpljp  of 


My  father  was  not  at  home  when  I  arrived, 
but  I  told  my  story  to  mother,  and  I  thought 
she  was  not  as  strong  in  her  opposition  as 
formerly.  When  father  came  I  broached  the 
subject  to  him,  and  he  said  I  was  crazy.  I 
said,  "Crazy  or  not,  I  want  to  go,  and  will  if 
Mr.  Matthews  will  take  me,"  for  which  speech 
I  received  a  reprimand.  This,  however,  did 
not  deter  me.  I  kept  on  teasing  for  his  per- 
mission until  he  finally  said,  "If  your  mother 
is  willing,  you  can  go  and  see  Mr.  Matthews." 
She  put  me  off  until  morning. 

I  suppose  they  had  a  consultation.  Indeed, 
I  know  that  they  concluded  that  Mr.  Matthews 
would  reject  me.  They  both  knew  him,  and 
had  both  been  to  his  office  that  day,  where 
my  father  was  employed  in  writing  articles 
of  agreement  for  the  voyageurs  to  sign.  My 
father  knew  that  Mr.  Matthews  had  his  full 
complement  of  clerks. 

In  the  morning  I  received  permission  from 
my  parents  to  go  and  see  Mr.  Matthews,  with 
the  understanding  that  if  he  would  engage  me 
they  would  consent  to  my  going. 

Now,  the  question  was,  how  to  approach 
Mr.  Matthews,  and  I  formed  many  plans,  but 
finally,  trusting  to  Mr.  Dyde  for  an  introduc- 
tion, and  getting  him  to  get  his  parents  to 
offer  my  services  and  intercede  for  me  on  the 
ground  of  my  friendship  for  their  son,  an  inter- 
view with  Mr.  Matthews  was  had.  He  told  me 
that  he  had  his  full  complement  of  clerks  and 
6 


oBurtimi  J>altoit^tan  JJuBbarli 

men  engaged,  and  that  I  was  really  too  young 
to  go;  but  he  finally  said  to  me,  '  'If  you  can 
get  your  parents'  consent  I  will  engage  you  for 
five  years  and  pay  you  one  hundred  and  twen- 
ty dollars  per  year,  more  on  account  of  John 
Dyde  than  anything  else,  as  he  wants  you  to 
go  with  him."  I  then  knew  the  negotiation 
was  ended,  as  I  had  my  father's  word,  which 
never  failed. 

I  sought  my  father  and  reported,  and  he 
and  my  mother  were  sorely  disappointed  and 
grieved,  but  offered  no  further  opposition. 

The  agreement  was  soon  thereafter  signed, 
and  I  drew  fifty  dollars  which  my  mother 
expended  for  my  outfit.  A  part  of  my  outfit 
consisted  of  a  swallow-tail  coat  (the  first  I  ever 
had)  and  pants  and  vest,  all  of  which  were 
much  too  large  for  me,  and  designed  to  be  filled 
by  my  future  growth. 

The  clerks  were  allowed  a  small  wooden 
chest  in  which  to  keep  their  outfit,  for  which 
the  company  charged  them  three  dollars;  the 
chest  and  contents  weighed  about  sixty  pounds. 
In  one  of  these  my  wardrobe  was  packed,  with 
other  necessary  articles  prepared  by  my  mother. 

Every  preparation  having  been  made  for  my 
departure,  I  reported  myself  in  readiness. 

Orders  were  issued  for  the  voyageurs  to 
report  on  the  1st  of  May  at  Lachine,  and  the 
clerks  were  to  report  at  the  same  place  on  the 
13th  of  May,  at  ten  o'clock  a.  m. 

Mr.  Wallace,  with  three  or  four  clerks,  was 


€]^e  ^utoBiograjjl^p  of 


detailed  to  take  charge  of  the  loading  of  the 
boats  on  May  1st. 

On  the  13  th  of  May,  1818,  having  bid  adieu 
to  my  mother  and  sisters,  I  started  with  my 
father  and  brother  for  Lachine,  where  I  arrived 
about  nine  o'clock  in  the  morning  and  reported 
for  duty. 

The  boats  were  all  loaded,  the  clerks  and 
voyageurs  were  there,  and  many  friends  and 
relatives  had  assembled  to  bid  them  farewell; 
all  were  strangers  to  me,  except  my  friend 
Dyde,  Mr.  Matthews  and  Mr.  Wallace. 

To  Mr.  Wallace  was  assigned  the  duty  of 
arranging  the  crews,  and  detailing  the  clerks 
to  the  different  boats.  Mr.  Wallace  was  a 
Scotchman,  and  was  one  of  a  party  who  was 
sent  by  Mr.  Astor  to  the  Columbia  River  on 
an  expedition  which  was  broken  up  by  the  war 
of  1 8 12.  He,  with  others,  returned  overland; 
their  vessel,  having  been  attacked  by  Indians, 
was  blown  up  by  one  of  the  men  on  board. 
He  was  a  man  of  large  experience  and  of  great 
energy  and  capacity,  and,  like  most  Scotch- 
men, was  a  strict  disciplinarian,  with  a  power- 
ful will  and  of  undaunted  courage. 

Though  sixty-two  years  have  passed  since 
then,  I  distinctly  remember  the  animating  and 
affecting  scene  presented  that  morning.  All 
being  ready  for  the  departure,  it  was  announced 
that  a  half-hour  would  be  given  for  leave- 
taking,  and  during  that  time  every  man  was 
at  liberty  and  under  no  restraint.  Then  came 
8 


<«5urtion  ^alton,ie?tan  i^uBliatti 

the  parting  embraces;  tears  and  blessings  being 
showered  on  all. 

Mr.  Matthews  had  embarked  in  the  largest 
boat,  which  was  gaily  decorated,  and  manned 
by  a  picked  crew  of  voyageurs. 

The  time  for  leave-takings  having  expired, 
Mr.  Wallace,  in  a  loud  voice,  gave  the  com- 
mand, "To  boats  all  ";  and  in  a  few  moments 
all  hands  were  aboard  and  pushing  off  from 
the  shore  amid  cheers  and  farewell  shouts. 

The  voyageurs  in  Mr.  Matthews'  boat  started 
the  boat  song,  which  was  joined  in  by  all  the 
voyageurs  and  clerks  in  the  expedition.  Stout 
arms  and  brave  hearts  were  at  the  oars,  and 
the  boats  fairly  flew  through  the  blue  waters  of 
the  St.  Lawrence  River. 

My  friend  Dyde  and  myself  had  been  as- 
signed to  the  same  boat,  a  favor  we  recognized 
as  coming  from  Mr.  Matthews. 

I  cannot  describe  my  feelings  as  I  looked 
back  upon  the  forms  of  my  father  and  brother, 
from  whom  I  was  then  about  to  be  separated. 
Nor  did  I,  until  that  time,  realize  my  situation 
or  regret  my  engagement.  The  thought  that 
I  might  never  again  see  those  most  dear  to  me 
filled  my  soul  with  anguish.  Bitter  tears  I 
could  not  help  shedding,  nor  did  I  care  to. 

When  the  boats  stopped  for  lunch  at  noon, 
the  clerks  were  invited  to  meet  Mr.  Matthews, 
and  were  then  introduced  to  each  other,  Mr. 
Matthews  making  a  short  speech  to  them. 

Our  lunch  consisted  of  wine,  crackers  and 


€|)e  ^utoIixograpJ)p  of 


cheese,  and  in  a  half-hour  from  the  time  of 
halting  we  resumed  our  journey. 

About  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  we 
camped  for  the  night.  The  clerks  all  messed 
with  Mr.  Matthews,  in  a  mess-tent  provided 
for  the  purpose.  One  small  sleeping  tent  was 
allotted  to  four  clerks. 

The  men  had  no  shelter  except  tarpaulins, 
which,  in  stormy  weather,  were  placed  upon 
poles,  thus  forming  a  roof.  Log  fires  were 
kindled  at  either  or  both  ends,  and  each  man 
was  provided  with  one  blanket. 

The  voyageurskept  their  clothing  and  tobacco 
in  linen  or  tow  bags  provided  by  the  company 
for  that  purpose.  The  clerks  were  supplied 
with  a  thin  mattress,  upon  which  two  slept, 
and  a  blanket  each,  and  a  small  tarpaulin  in 
which  to  roll  up  their  mattress  and  blankets. 

The  tarpaulin  also  served  as  a  carpet  for  the 
tents. 

The  men  were  fed  exclusively  upon  pea  soup 
and  salt  pork,  and  on  Sunday  an  extra  allow- 
ance of  hard  biscuit.  The  tables  of  the  clerks 
were  also  supplied  with  salt  pork  and  pea  soup, 
and  in  addition  thereto,  with  tea,  sugar,  hard 
bread,  and  such  meats  as  could  be  procured 
from  time  to  time. 

All  took  breakfast  at  daybreak,  and  soon 
after  sunrise  the  boats  were  under  way.  One 
hour  was  allowed  at  noon  for  dinner,  and  at 
sundown  we  camped  for  the  night,  which  made 
a  long  day  of  hard  work  for  the  men,  though 

10 


vDurtion  J>alton^tall  I^ubtiarti 

they  were  occasionally  allowed  ten  minutes  "to 
pipe,"  i.  e.,  to  fill  their  pipes  for  smoking. 

Our  boats  were  heavily  laden,  and  our  pro- 
gress up  the  swift  St.  Lawrence  was  necessarily 
slow.  Some  days,  when  we  had  "rapids"  to 
overcome,  three  to  five  miles  was  the  full  day's 
journey.  And  where  the  rapids  were  heavy, 
the  crews  of  three,  and  sometimes  four  boats 
were  allotted  to  one,  seven  or  eight  of  the 
men  being  in  the  water,  pushing  and  pulling 
and  keeping  the  boat  from  sheering  into  the 
current. 

Two  men  remained  in  the  boat,  one  in  the 
bow,  the  other  at  the  stern,  with  iron-pointed 
poles  to  aid  the  men  in  the  water,  and  to  steer 
and  keep  her  bow  heading  the  current,  the  rest 
of  the  men  on  the  shore  pulling  on  a  rope  which 
was  attached  to  the  bow.  Yet  with  all  this 
force,  the  current  at  times  was  so  strong  the 
boat  would  scarcely  move;  and  the  force  of 
the  current  would  raise  the  water  to  the  very 
top  of  the  "cut- water,"  and  sometimes  even 
over  the  sides  of  the  boat. 

On  several  occasions,  the  boat  and  men 
were  dragged  back  until  they  found  an  "eddy," 
when  all  would  stop  and  rest  for  another  effort. 
This  work  was  very  severe  on  the  men,  they 
toiling  from  early  morning  until  night,  with 
only  an  hour's  interval  at  noon,  and  an  occa- 
sional respite  while  stemming  a  swift  current. 

Great  dissatisfaction  prevailed  among  the 
voyageurs,  and,  desertions  becoming  frequent, 
II 


€j)e  ^utobiograpljp  of 


guards  were  established  at  night,  consisting  of 
the  clerks;  and  yet  scarcely  a  morning  appeared 
that  some  were  not  missing.  We,  however, 
moved  steadily  along,  making  a  daily  average 
of  about  fifteen  miles,  we  clerks,  sauntering, 
whenever  inclination  led  us,  on  the  banks,  or 
sometimes  inland  for  several  miles,  stopping 
at  houses  occasionally  and  chatting  with  the 
inmates,  where  we  were  always  cordially  re- 
ceived, and  often  treated  to  the  best  they  had. 
The  news  of  the  advancing  brigade  preceded  us, 
and  we  found  them  fully  posted  as  to  our  com- 
ing. At  one  time  we  received  a  pleasant  visit 
from  the  late  Hiram  Norton,  of  Lockport, 
Illinois,  who  then  resided  on  the  St.  Lawrence; 
and  then  began  an  acquaintance  which  in  later 
years  ripened  into  a  warm  friendship. 

Notwithstanding  these  excursions  and  the 
beauty  and  variety  of  the  scenery  through  which 
we  passed,  our  daily  routine  became  extremely 
monotonous.  We  were  about  a  month  in  reach- 
ing Toronto,  then  called  "Little  York,"  a 
small  town  of  about  three  hundred  inhabitants, 
mostly  Canadian  French.  By  this  time  the 
number  of  our  men  was  greatly  reduced  by 
desertions,  and  Mr.  Matthews  began  to  fear 
that  he  would  be  obliged  to  leave  some  of  the 
boats  for  want  of  crews.  The  hard  work, 
however,  was  over,  as  from  that  point  there 
was  no  more  current  to  hinder  our  progress. 
Here  Mr.  Matthews  changed  our  route,  and 
instead  of  passing  through    Lake   Erie   via 

12 


Buffalo,  as  was  intended,  he  hired  ox  teams, 
loading  our  goods  in  carts,  and  detailing  most 
of  the  clerks  to  accompany  them  over  to  what 
was  called  "Youngs  Street,"  to  Lake  Simcoe, 
where  we  encamped  and  remained  some  two 
weeks,  until  all  our  boats  were  hauled  over 
and  launched  into  that  romantic  little  lake  and 
reloaded.  Two  yoke  of  cattle  were  also  put 
on  board  one  of  the  boats.  We  struck  camp 
and  proceeded  to  the  other  end,  where  the 
goods  and  boats,  with  the  help  of  the  oxen, 
made  the  Not-ta-wa-sa-ga  portage,  into  the 
river  of  the  same  name.  Though  this  portage 
was  only  six  miles,  we  were  a  week  convey- 
ing our  goods  and  boats  across.  During  this 
time  we  were  nearly  devoured  with  mosquitos 
and  gnats.  We  were  in  an  uninhabited  wilder- 
ness, with  no  road  over  the  low  swamp  lands. 
Desertion  among  the  men  had  ceased,  for  the 
very  good  reason  that  there  was  no  chance  to 
escape.  All  rejoiced  when  we  were  again  in 
our  boats,  and,  with  the  current  aiding  us, 
swept  down  the  winding  course  of  the  Notta- 
wasaga  River.  The  worst  of  the  journey  was 
now  over,  and  with  lightened  hearts  the  voya- 
geurs  again  lifted  their  voices  and  joined  in  the 
melodious  boat  songs.  We  descended  the 
river  to  Lake  Huron,  which  we  coasted. 

Early  in  the  afternoon  of  the  third  of  July 
we  reached  Goose  Island,  and  camped  in  sight 
of  Mich-il-i-mac-i-nac,  "The  Great  Turtle," 
the  wind  being  too  strong  from  the  west  to 

>3 


€f)e  ^utoliiograpljp  of 


admit  of  our  crossing  the  open  lake.  How- 
ever, as  the  island  abounded  in  gull's  eggs, 
we  spent  an  agreeable  evening  around  our 
camp  fires,  feasting  on  them. 

As  the  lake  was  still  rough,  the  morning  of 
the  fourth  being  too  stormy  to  venture  across, 
we  devoted  the  time  to  washing,  and  dressing 
in  our  best  clothing,  not  so  much  in  commemora- 
tion of  the  day,  as  of  our  joy  at  the  sight  of 
that  beautiful  island  where  our  wearisome  voy- 
age was  to  end,  thankful  that  we  had  been 
brought  in  safety,  without  accident,  through  so 
many  difficulties  and  perils.  We  became  so 
impatient  at  the  delay  that  about  two  o'clock 
in  the  afternoon  we  started  across,  but  the 
wind  continued  so  high  that  the  passage  took 
about  three  hours,  and  we  were  unable  to 
round  the  point  of  the  island,  but  were  com- 
pelled to  land  on  the  east  side,  at  the  foot  of 
"Robinson's  Folly." 

Here  we  were  met  by  Messrs.  Ramsey  Crooks 
and  Robert  Stewart,  the  managers  of  the 
American  Fur  Company,  together  with  a  host 
of  clerks  and  voyageurs,  who  extended  to  us  a 
cordial  welcome,  and  thus  we  celebrated  the 
fourth  of  July,  i8i8. 

On  this  island  lived  old  voyageurs,  worn  out 
with  the  hard  service  incident  to  their  calling, 
with  their  families  of  half-breeds. 

A  few,  only,  of  the  inhabitants  engaged  in 
trade.  Mrs.  Mitchell,  an  energetic,  enterpris- 
ing woman,  the  wife  of  Dr.  Mitchell,  a  surgeon 
14 


oBurtion  ^altmiiBftan  J^utiBarti 

of  the  English  army,  and  stationed  at  Drum- 
mond's  Island,  had  a  store  and  small  farm. 
Michael  Dousman,  Edward  Biddle,  and  John 
Drew  were  also  merchants,  all  depending  on 
trading  with  the  Indians. 

These  merchants,  to  a  very  great  extent,  were 
under  the  influence  of  the  American  Fur  Com- 
pany, purchasing  most  of  their  goods  from 
them,  and  selling  to  them  their  furs  and  peltries. 

This  island  was  the  headquarters  of  the 
American  Fur  Company,  and  here  I  first  learned 
something  of  the  working  and  discipline  of 
that  mammoth  corporation,  and  took  my  first 
lessons  in  the  life  of  an  Indian  trader,  a  life 
which  I  followed  exclusively  for  ten  consecu- 
tive years.  Here,  also,  was  located  Fort 
Mackinaw,  at  that  time  garrisoned  by  three  or 
four  companies  of  United  States  troops.  The 
village  had  a  population  of  about  five  hundred, 
mostly  of  Canadian  French  and  of  mixed  Indian 
blood,  whose  chief  occupation  was  fishing  in 
summer  and  hunting  in  winter.  There  were 
not  more  than  twelve  white  women  on  the 
island,  the  residue  of  the  female  population 
being  either  all  or  part  Indian.  Here,  during 
the  summer  months,  congregated  the  traders 
employed  by  the  Fur  Company,  bringing  their 
collections  from  their  several  trading  posts, 
which  extended  from  the  British  dominions  on 
the  north  and  the  Missouri  River  in  the  west, 
south  and  east  to  the  white  settlements;  in 
fact,  to  all  the  Indian  hunting  grounds,  so  that 
15 


€ftc  3lutoli:o0rapljp  of 


when  all  were  collected  they  added  three  thou- 
sand or  more  to  the  population. 

The  Indians  from  the  shores  of  the  upper 
lakes,  who  made  this  island  a  place  of  resort, 
numbered  from  two  to  three  thousand  more. 
Their  wigwams  lined  the  entire  beach  two  or 
three  rows  deep,  and,  with  the  tents  of  the 
traders,  made  the  island  a  scene  of  life  and  ani- 
mation. The  voyageurs  were  fond  of  fun  and 
frolic,  and  the  Indians  indulged  in  their  love 
of  liquor,  and,  by  the  exhibition  of  their  war, 
medicine,  and  other  dances  and  sports,  often 
made  both  night  and  day  hideous  with  their 
yells.  These  voyageurs  were  all  Canadian 
French,  and  were  the  only  people  fitted  for  the 
life  they  were  compelled  to  endure,  their  cheer- 
ful temperament  and  happy  disposition  making 
them  contented  under  the  privations  and  hard- 
ships incident  to  their  calling. 

At  the  time  of  our  arrival,  all  the  traders 
from  the  North  and  the  Great  West  had  reached 
the  island  with  their  returns  of  furs  collected 
from  the  Indians  during  the  previous  winter, 
which  were  being  counted  and  appraised,  and 
the  profit  or  loss  of  each  "outfit"  ascertained. 

All  of  the  different  outfits  were  received  into 
a  large  warehouse,  where  they  were  assorted 
into  various  classes  or  grades,  carefully  counted, 
packed,  and  pressed  for  shipment  to  New  York 
to  John  Jacob  Astor,  the  president  of  the  com- 
pany. 

The  work  of  assorting  required  expert 
i6 


<6uttion  ^alton^tan  I^ubiiatti 

judges  of  furs,  a  nice  discrimination  between 
the  different  grades  being  necessary,  as  prices 
varied  very  greatly,  there  being  as  many  as  six 
grades.  Marten  (sable),  for  example,  being 
classed  as  extra  fine  dark,  number  one  dark, 
number  two  dark,  number  one  fine  brown, 
number  two  fine  brown,  number  one  fine,  com- 
mon, number  two  common,  number  three  com- 
mon, good,  out  of  season,  inferior,  damaged, 
and  worthless.  The  value  of  the  fur  of  this 
animal  depended  as  much  on  color  as  fineness, 
and  was  found  in  the  greatest  variety  of  shades 
of  color,  and,  with  the  exception  of  silver-gray 
fox,  was  the  most  valuable.  Mink,  muskrat, 
raccoon,  lynx,  wild  cat,  fox,  wolverine,  badger, 
otter,  beaver,  and  other  small  fur  animals, 
received  the  same  care,  except  there  were 
fewer  grades  of  quality.  In  bear  skins,  only, 
were  there  more  than  four  grades,  but  in  those 
the  discrimination  was  nearly  equal  to  marten, 
being  extra  fine  black  she,  number  two  ditto, 
fine  number  one,  number  two  ditto,  and  fine, 
coarse,  and  numbers  one,  two,  and  three  he 
bear.  Deer  skins  required  but  little  skill  in 
assorting;  they  were  classed  as  red  doe,  red 
buck,  blue  doe,  blue  buck,  season  doe,  season 
buck,  out  of  season,  and  damaged. 

The  commanders  of  outfits  were  deeply 
interested  in  the  assortment  of  their  furs,  and 
were  very  watchful  to  see  that  justice  was 
done  them;  for  upon  this  depended  their  bal- 
ance sheets  of  profit  or  loss.  Hence,  frequent 
17 


€l)e  ^utofiio0raj>l)p  of 


disputes  arose  as  to  the  grade  and  value  of  the 
skins. 

Mr.  Matthews  had  the  general  management 
of  the  fur  warehouse,  and  on  arrival  assumed 
the  charge.  After  a  few  days  I  was  ordered 
to  report  to  him,  and  then  commenced  my  first 
instructions  in  the  fur  trade. 

It  was  my  business  to  make  a  second  count 
in  order  to  verify  the  first.  The  first  count 
was  entered  on  a  book  not  seen  by  me,  and  if 
mine  corresponded  with  it,  the  furs  were  placed 
in  a  frame,  pressed,  marked,  and  rolled  into 
the  shipping  wareroom.  If,  however,  my 
count  did  not  agree  with  the  first,  I  was  re- 
quired to  make  a  second  count,  and  if  there 
was  still  a  discrepancy,  a  third  person  was 
called  upon  to  recount  them.  This  work  took 
about  two  months,  the  working  hours  being 
from  five  o'clock  in  the  morning  to  twelve 
noon,  and  from  one  to  seven  in  the  afternoon, 
and,  as  I  was  obliged  to  maintain  a  stooping 
posture,  was  severely  fatiguing. 

About  one  hundred  voyageurs  were  detailed 
to  assist  in  this  business,  and  were  kept  under 
strict  discipline.  Most  of  them  were  experi- 
enced, and  were  generally  contented  and  happy, 
each  working  with  a  will,  knowing  that  Macki- 
naw fatigue  duty  came  but  once  in  four  years, 
and  that  if  they  lived  through  the  succeeding 
three  years,  their  time  at  headquarters  could 
be  spent  in  comparative  ease  and  comfort. 

A  party  was  also  organized  to  cut  wood  on 
i8 


<Durtion  J>aftonjeftan  J^uBBarti 

Bois  Blanc,  and  bring  it  in  boats  to  the  island 
for  the  use  of  the  agents  and  employes  who 
remained  there;  this  party  consisted  of  about 
twenty-five  picked  choppers,  under  the  charge 
of  one  of  the  clerks  detailed  for  that  purpose. 
Another  party  was  employed  in  lyeing  (hulling) 
corn,  and  drying  and  putting  up  for  the  use  of 
those  remaining  on  the  island,  and  for  supply- 
ing the  various  outfits  soon  to  leave  for  their 
trading  posts. 

The  daily  ration  issued  by  the  commissary 
to  a  mess  of  from  six  to  ten  men,  consisted  of 
one  pint  of  lyed  or  hulled  and  dried  com,  with 
from  two  to  four  ounces  of  tallow,  to  each  man; 
and  this  was  all  the  food  they  received,  except 
that  on  Saturday  flour  was  given  them  for 
Sunday  pancakes.  It  would  seem  that  this 
was  a  very  short  and  light  ration  for  healthy, 
hard-working  men,  but  it  was  quite  sufficient, 
and  generally  more  than  they  could  consume. 
It  was  invariably  liked  by  them,  and  it  was 
found  that  they  could  endure  more  hardships 
on  this  than  on  a  diet  of  bread  and  meat. 

Those  who  came  from  Canada,  their  first 
season,  and  who  were  called  mangi-du-lard, 
or  "pork-eaters,"  were  usually  much  dissatis- 
fied and  angered  with  this  ration,  as  on  the 
voyage  up  they  were  fed  on  pork,  pease,  and 
hard  bread,  and  the  change  was  anything  but 
agreeable  to  them.  They  were,  however,  soon 
laughed  out  of  it  by  the  old  voyageurs,  who 
told  them  that  many  of  them  would  be  thankful 

«9 


€f)e  ^utoBiogra))]^?  of 


for  even  that  before  they  returned  from  their 
winter  quarters. 

The  Company  had  a  yard  in  which  were 
made  and  repaired  their  own  boats,  and  where 
were  manufactured  traps,  tomahawks,  'and 
other  articles  from  iron.  Other  parties  of  the 
men  were  detailed  to  assist  the  mechanics 
in  this  work. 

Most  of  the  clerks  were  assigned  to  duty 
either  in  charge  of  the  different  gangs  of  men 
or  in  the  wholesale  and  retail  stores  and  offices. 
From  these  duties  the  heads  of  outfits  were 
exempt. 

The  force  of  the  Company,  when  all  were 
assembled  on  the  island,  comprised  about  four 
hundred  clerks  and  traders,  together  with 
some  two  thousand  voyageurs.  About  five 
hundred  of  these  were  quartered  in  barracks, 
one  hundred  lived  in  the  agency  house,  and 
the  others  were  camped  in  tents  and  accom- 
modated in  rooms  of  the  Islanders. 

Dances  and  parties  were  given  every  night 
by  the  residents  of  the  island  in  honor  of  the 
traders,  and  they,  in  their  turn,  reciprocated 
with  balls  and  jollifications,  which,  though  not 
as  elegant  and  costly  as  those  of  the  present 
day,  were  sufficiently  so  to  drain  from  the 
participants  all  the  hard  earnings  of  the  winter 
previous. 

In  each  "brigade,"  or  outfit,  was  to  be 
found  one  who,  from  superior  strength  or 
bravery,  was  looked  upon  as  the  "bully"  of 
20 


<Durlion  ^alton^Gftall  i^uBBarti 

that  crew  of  voyageurs,  and  who,  as  a  dis- 
tinguishing mark,  wore  a  black  feather  in  his 
cap. 

These  "bullies"  were  generally  good  fight- 
ers, and  were  always  governed  by  the  rules  of 
fair  play.  It  was  a  rule,  and  was  expected, 
that  they  should  fight  each  other;  hence  it  was 
not  an  uncommon  thing  to  see  a  fight.  The 
vanquished  one  gave  up  his  black  feather  to 
the  conqueror,  or  shook  hands  with  him,  and 
they  both  joined  with  the  lookers  on  in  a  glass 
of  beer  or  whisky  as  good-naturedly  as  though 
nothing  unpleasant  had  occurred. 

The  majority  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  island 
were  of  mixed  blood — Canadian  and  Indian — 
and  those  who  were  of  pure  blood,  and  were 
heads  of  families,  had  Indian  wives.  Their 
children,  though  uneducated,  were  usually 
bright  and  intelligent,  and  fond  of  finery, 
dancing,  and  other  amusements.  There  were  a 
few  of  the  half-breeds  who  had  received  a  com- 
mon education,  either  in  English  or  French, 
which  was  generally  of  little  use  to  them,  as 
they  were  mostly  too  lazy  or  proud  to  earn  a 
livelihood. 

Among  the  Indian  or  part  Indian  women 
who  were,  or  had  been,  married  to  white  hus- 
bands, were  found  some  of  great  intellectual 
capacity,  who  carried  on  an  extensive  trade 
with  the  Indians,  one  of  whom  was  the  Mrs. 
Mitchell  before  referred  to;  she  had  a  store 
and  a  farm,  both  under  excellent  management, 

21 


€Jje  ^utoBiograpfjp  of 


and  her  children  had  been  well  educated  in 
Canada.  This  woman's  husband  was  a  Scotch- 
man and  a  surgeon  in  the  English  army,  and 
while  the  island  of  Mackinaw  was  in  the  pos- 
session of  England  he  was  stationed  there; 
removing  afterwards  to  Drummond's  Island, 
he  rarely  visited  his  family,  though  only  fifty 
miles  distant.  He  was  a  man  of  strong  preju- 
dices, hated  the  "  Yankees, "  and  would  hold 
no  social  intercourse  with  them. 

Mrs.  Mitchell  was  quite  the  reverse,  and 
being  rather  partial  to  the  "Yankees,"  treated 
them  with  great  consideration;  she  was  a  fine 
housekeeper  and  owned  one  of  the  best  houses 
on  the  island;  she  was  fond  of  good  society, 
very  hospitable,  and  entertained  handsomely, 
conversing  in  French  and  English,  both  of 
which  she  spoke  fluently. 

Another  of  these  women  was  Mrs.  Lafrom- 
boise,  who  also  traded  with  the  Indians  in 
the  interior,  usually  up  the  Grand  River  of 
Michigan;  her  daughter  was  highly  educated, 
and  married  the  commanding  officer  at  Fort 
Mackinaw. 

Mrs.  Lafromboise  could  read  and  write,  and 
was  a  perfect  lady  in  her  manners  and  conver- 
sation; she  was  a  widow,  her  husband,  who  was 
a  trader,  having  been  shot  and  killed  by  an 
Indian  on  the  Mississippi  River;  she  took  his 
place  and  business  and  accumulated  consider- 
able money.  She  was  afterwards  employed  on 
a  salary  by  the  American  Fur  Company. 

22 


Mrs.  Chandler,  a  sister  of  Mrs.  Lafromboise, 
was  also  noted  for  her  ladylike  manners  and 
many  Christian  virtues.  Her  husband  was  an 
invalid  and  her  daughter  a  widow.  This 
daughter  was  also  highly  educated  and  was 
considered  the  belle  of  Mackinaw;  she  after- 
ward married  Mr.  Beard,  a  lawyer  of  Green 
Bay,  Wisconsin. 

It  was  my  good  fortune  to  be  received  into 
these  excellent  families  as  a  welcome  visitor, 
and  they  all  took  an  interest  in  me  and  my  wel- 
fare, calling  me  their  ' '  boy  clerk. ' '  My  leisure 
evenings  were  passed  with  them,  much  to  my 
pleasure  and  advantage.  From  them  I  received 
much  good  advice,  as  well  as  instruction  in  the 
method  of  conducting  trade  with  the  Indians, 
which  was  of  much  benefit  to  me  in  my  after 
life  as  a  trader. 

It  was  also  my  good  fortune  to  form  the 
acquaintance  of  Mr.  Deschamps,  who  was  an 
old  man  and  the  head  of  the  "Illinois  outfit." 

Mr.  Deschamps  had  been  educated  at  Quebec 
for  a  Roman  Catholic  priest,  but,  refusing  to  be 
ordained,  he,  at  the  age  of  nineteen,  engaged 
himself  to  Mr.  Sara,  a  fur  trader  at  St.  Louis, 
and  had  devoted  many  years  of  his  life  to  the 
Indian  trade  on  the  Ohio  and  Illinois  Rivers. 
When  the  American  Fur  Company  was  organ- 
ized he  was  engaged  by  them  and  placed  in 
charge  of  the  "Illinois  brigade,"  or  outfit. 

It  was  the  policy  of  the  American  Fur  Com- 
pany to  monopoUze  the  entire  fur  trade  of  the 
23 


€l^e  ^uto&io0rap]jp  of 


Northwest;  and  to  this  end  they  engaged  fully 
nineteen-twentieths  of  all  the  traders  of  that 
territory,  and  with  their  immense  capital  and 
influence  succeeded  in  breaking  up  the  business 
of  any  trader  who  refused  to  enter  their  service. 

Very  soon  after  reaching  Mackinaw  and 
making  returns,  the  traders  commenced  organ- 
izing their  crews  and  preparing  their  outfits 
for  their  return  to  winter  quarters  at  their 
various  trading  posts,  those  destined  for  the 
extreme  North  being  the  first  to  receive  atten- 
tion.    These  outfits  were  called  "brigades." 

The  "brigade"  destined  for  the  Lake  of 
the  Woods,  having  the  longest  journey  to 
make,  was  the  first  to  depart.  They  were 
transported  in  boats  called  batteaux,  which 
very  much  resembled  the  boats  now  used  by 
fishermen  on  the  great  lakes,  except  that  they 
were  larger,  and  were  each  manned  by  a  crew 
of  five  men  besides  a  clerk.  Four  of  the  men 
rowed  while  the  fifth  steered.  Each  boat  car- 
ried about  three  tons  of  merchandise,  together 
with  the  clothing  of  the  men  and  rations  of 
corn  and  tallow.  No  shelter  was  provided  for 
the  voyageurs,  and  their  luggage  was  confined 
to  twenty  pounds  in  weight,  carried  in  a  bag 
provided  for  that  purpose. 

The  commander  of  the  "brigade"  took  for 
his  own  use  the  best  boat,  and  with  him  an 
extra  man,  who  acted  in  the  capacity  of 
"orderly"  to  the  expedition,  and  the  will  of 
the  commander  was  the  only  law  known. 
24 


<Durtion  J>alton^n  l^utidarti 

The  clerks  were  furnished  with  salt  pork,  a 
bag  of  flour,  tea  and  coffee,  and  a  tent  for 
shelter,  and  messed  with  the  commander  and 
orderly. 

A  vast  multitude  assembled  at  the  harbor 
to  witness  their  departure,  and  when  all  was 
ready  the  boats  glided  from  the  shore,  the 
crews  singing  some  favorite  boat  song,  while 
the  multitude  shouted  their  farewells  and 
wishes  for  a  successful  trip  and  a  safe  return; 
and  thus  outfit  after  outfit  started  on  its  way 
for  Lake  Superior,  Upper  and  Lower  Missis- 
sippi, and  other  posts. 

The  "Wabash  and  Illinois  river  outfits" 
were  almost  the  last,  and  were  speedily 
followed  by  the  smaller  ones  for  the  shores  of 
Lakes  Huron  and  Michigan,  and  which  con- 
sisted of  but  from  one  to  three  boats. 

I  was  detailed  to  the  Fond-du-Lac  (Lake 
Superior)  "brigade,"  and  a  week  or  so  before 
its  departure  was  relieved  from  duty  at  the  fur 
warehouse. 

About  this  time  I  received  a  letter  from  my 
father,  written  at  Erie,  Pennsylvania,  in  which 
he  informed  me  that  he  and  my  brother  were 
there  on  their  way  to  St.  Louis,  and  that  they 
had  waited  there  a  week  looking  for  the  Fur 
Company's  vessel,  which  it  was  expected  would 
touch  there  on  her  way  from  Buffalo  to 
Mackinaw,  upon  which  they  hoped  to  obtain 
passage,  and  thus  visit  me,  and  if  they  found 
no  way  of  proceeding  to  St.  Louis  from  there, 

25 


€|)c  ^utotiiograpljp  of 


they  would  return  on  the  vessel  to  Erie;  but 
fearing  she  had  passed,  and  being  uncertain 
whether  they  should  find  me  on  the  island, 
they  had  reluctantly  concluded  to  continue  their 
journey  by  way  of  Cincinnati. 

I  had  before  this  been  told  by  Mr.  Des- 
champs  that  he  made  a  trip  every  fall  to  St. 
Louis,  with  one  boat,  to  purchase  supplies  of 
tobacco  and  other  necessaries  for  distribution 
among  the  various  traders  on  the  Illinois 
River;  and  as  he  had  seemed  fond  of  me,  and 
possessed  my  confidence,  I  went  immediately 
to  him  with  my  letter,  thinking  to  advise  with 
him,  and,  perhaps,  to  send  by  him  an  answer 
to  my  father.  After  hearing  my  story,  he 
delighted  me  by  saying,  ' '  Would  you  like  to 
go  with  me,  if  it  can  be  so  arranged?"  to  which 
I  answered  affirmatively,  and  begged  for  his 
influence  and  efforts  to  that  end. 

A  Mr.  Warner,  a  fellow  clerk  from  Mont- 
real, had  been  detailed  to  Mr.  Deschamps' 
"brigade." 

"Now,"  said  Mr.  Deschamps,  "if  you  can 
get  Mr.  Warner  to  consent  to  an  exchange,  I 
think  I  can  get  Mr.  Crooks'  permission;  I  can 
see  no  objection  to  it,  and  as  I  am  the  party 
mostly  interested,  I  think  it  can  be  arranged 
with  him;  you  must  first,  however,  obtain  Mr. 
Warner's  consent,  and  then  I  will  see  what  I 
can  do." 

So  off  I  started,  letter  in  hand,  to  see 
Warner,  not  daring  to  hope  for  success;  but 

26 


4Biurt>on  <f>alton^tan  i^uBBarli 

to  my  surprise  I  found  he  preferred  going 
north  to  south,  and  would  gladly  make  the 
change.  I  reported  to  Mr.  Deschamps,  and 
he,  seeing  my  anxiety,  took  my  letter  and  went 
immediately  to  Mr.  Crooks,  who  gave  his 
consent,  and  with  it  an  order  to  the  book- 
keeper to  change  the  names  in  the  details;  you 
may  feel  certain  that  I  felt  [much  rejoiced  at 
my  good  fortune.  Thus  my  desire  of  finding 
my  father  in  St.  Louis  was  the  probable  cause 
of  an  entire  change  in  my  destiny,  for,  instead 
of  being  located  in  the  cold  regions  of  the 
North,  where  my  friend  Warner  froze  to  death 
that  winter,  my  lot  was  cast  in  this  beautiful 
State. 

During  my  stay  at  Mackinaw  I  had  made 
the  acquaintance  of  John  H.  Kinzie,  a  clerk 
of  about  my  own  age,  and  our  acquaintance 
had  ripened  into  an  intimacy.  He  had  entered 
the  service  of  the  Company  that  spring,  and 
was  stationed  permanently  at  Mackinaw,  and 
was  not  to  be  sent  into  the  Indian  country. 
His  father  then  resided  at  Chicago,  and  I  had 
learned  of  the  great  hospitality  of  the  family, 
and  of  the  high  esteem  felt  for  them  by  all 
who  knew  them;  and  as  I  had  also  been  told 
that  we  should  make  a  stop  of  a  week  or  more 
at  Chicago,  there  to  make  our  arrangements 
for  crossing  our  boats  and  goods  to  the 
Desplaines  River,  I  gladly  accepted  letters  of 
introduction  which  he  kindly  proffered  me, 
to  his  father  and  family. 
27 


€1^0  ^utoBiograjjfjp  •of 


Throughmy  intimacy  with  John  I  had  become 
quite  familiar  with  the  appearance  of  the  Kin- 
zie  family  and  their  surroundings.  I  knew 
that  Fort  Dearborn  was  located  at  Chicago, 
then  a  frontier  post;  that  it  was  garrisoned  by 
two  companies  of  soldiers,  and  that  on  my 
arrival  there  I  should  for  the  first  time  in  my 
life  see  a  prairie;  and  I  felt  that  my  new  detail 
was  to  take  me  among  those  who  would  be  my 
friends,  and  was  happy  in  the  thought. 

FIRST  YEAR  IN  THE  INDIAN  COUNTRY. 
—MARQUETTE  CROSS.  —  CHICAGO.  — 
FORT  DEARBORN. 

The  time  of  our  departure  soon  arrived,  and 
about  noon  on  the  loth  of  September,  1818, 
our  "brigade"  left  the  harbor  in  twelve  boats. 

Mr.  Deschamps  took  me  in  his  boat,  and  led 
the  way,  with  his  fine,  strong  voice  starting  the 
boat  song,  in  which  all  the  crews  heartily  joined. 

The  people  on  the  shore  bid  us  a  "God 
speed,"  and  joined  with  us  in  the  hope  for  our 
safe  return  the  next  season. 

The  Islanders,  more  than  any  one  else, 
regretted  our  departure,  as  what  few  of  the 
traders  remained  would  go  in  a  few  days  and 
leave  them  to  the  monotony  of  their  own  sur- 
roundings, even  the  Indians  having  mostly 
departed  for  their  hunting  grounds. 

Some  of  our  boats  were  crowded  with  the 
families  of  the  traders,  the  oldest  of  whom  was 
28 


Mr.  Bieson,  a  large,  portly,  gray-headed  man, 
who  was  then  about  sixty  years  of  age,  and  for 
more  than  forty  years  had  been  an  Indian 
trader  on  the  Ohio,  Mississippi,  and  Illinois 
Rivers.  His  wife  was  a  pure-blooded  Potta- 
watomie Indian,  enormous  in  size — so  fleshy 
she  could  scarcely  walk.  Their  two  daughters 
were  married,  and  lived  at  Cahokie,  a  small 
French  town  opposite  St.  Louis.  Mr.  Bieson 
had  a  house  and  some  property  at  Opa  (now 
Peoria),  but  had  been,  with  all  the  inhabitants 
of  that  place,  driven  off  by  the  United  States 
troops,  under  command  of  General  Howard, 
in  the  year  1813,  and  a  fort  was  there  erected, 
which  was  called  Fort  Clark.  The  town  of 
Opa  and  Fort  Clark  were  situated  at  the  foot 
of  Lake  Peoria,  on  the  Illinois  River,  where 
now  stands  the  flourishing  city  of  Peoria. 

The  inhabitants  of  Opa  were  suspected 
(wrongly,  I  think)  by  our  government  of  being 
enemies,  and  of  aiding  and  counseling  the 
Indians  in  giving  assistance  to  Great  Britain, 
and  this  was  the  cause  of  General  Howard's 
action  in  compelling  them  to  vacate.  Undoubt- 
edly some  of  them  favored  the  British,  and 
was  paid  'spies,  but  a  large  majority  opposed 
the  Indians  in  siding  with  the  British,  and 
counseled  them  to  act  neutrally  and  attend  to 
their  hunting. 

Among  the  others,  who  had  with  them  their 
families,  were  Messrs.  Beebeau,  of  Opa,  and 
Lefrombois,  Bleau,  and  La  Clare,  all  of  whom 
29 


€6c  ^utoliiograpljp  of 


had  Indian  wives;  and,  in  fact,  there  were  but 
three  or  four  single  men  in  the  party.  Those 
having  famihes  messed  by  themselves,  while 
the  single  men  clubbed  together.  Mr.  Des- 
champs  was  fond  of  good  living,  and  our  mess 
of  five  was  well  provided  for,  having  such 
meats,  fish,  and  wild  fruits  as  were  presented 
to  us  by  the  Indians  when  we  met  them  on  the 
shore  of  Lake  Michigan. 

It  was  a  custom  of  the  Indians  to  present 
the  head  man  of  an  expedition  with  the  best 
they  had,  expecting  to  receive  in  return,  salt, 
powder,  or  something  else  of  value  to  them. 
The  choice  parts  were  retained  by  Mr.  Des- 
champs  for  his  own  table,  and  the  balance  dis- 
tributed among  the  traders. 

The  traders  were  all  provided  with  small 
tents,  but  the  only  shelter  given  to  the  men 
was  what  was  afforded  by  the  boat  tarpaulins, 
and,  indeed,  no  other  was  needed,  the  camp 
fires  being  sufficient  for  warmth  during  the 
night.  No  covering  but  their  single  blanket 
was  required,  unless  the  weather  was  stormy. 

The  boats  progressed  at  the  rate  of  about 
forty  miles  per  day  under  oars,  and  when  the 
wind  was  fair  we  hoisted  our  square  sails,  by 
the  aid  of  which  we  were  enabled  to  make 
seventy  or  seventy-five  miles  per  day.  If  the 
wind  proved  too  heavy,  or  blew  strong  ahead, 
we  sought  an  entrance  into  the  first  creek  or 
river  we  came  to,  and  there  awaited  a  favorable 
time  to  proceed.  If  caught  by  a  storm  on  the 
30 


OBurtion  ^aftonjeftafl  jpubBarti 

coast,  when  a  shelter  could  not  be  reached,  we 
sought  the  shore,  where  our  boats  were  unload- 
ed and  hauled  up  on  to  the  beach  out  of  reach 
of  the  surf.  This  was  a  hard  and  fatiguing 
labor,  and  was  accomplished  by  laying  down 
poles  on  the  sand  from  the  edge  of  the  water. 
The  men  then  waded  into  the  water  on  each 
side  of  the  boat,  and  by  lifting  and  pushing  as 
each  large  wave  rolled  against  it,  finally  suc- 
ceeded in  landing  it  high  and  dry  on  the  shore. 
The  goods  were  then  piled  up,  resting  on  poles, 
and  covered  over  with  the  tarpaulins,  which 
were  raised  to  the  leeward  by  poles,  so  as  to 
form  a  good  shelter  for  the  men  and  protect 
them  from  wind  and  rain.  Sometimes  we  were 
compelled  to  remain  thus  in  camp  for  four  or 
five  days  at  a  time,  waiting  for  the  storm  to 
subside,  and  during  this  time  many  games  were 
indulged  in,  such  as  racing,  wrestling,  and  card 
playing,  and  all  were  jolly  and  contented; 
sometimes  varying  the  monotony  by  hunting 
or  fishing. 

Our  journey  around  Lake  Michigan  was 
rather  a  long  one,  having  occupied  about 
twenty  days.  Nothing  of  interest  transpired 
until  we  reached  Marquette  River,  about  where 
the  town  of  Ludington  now  stands.  This  was 
the  spot  where  Father  Marquette  died,  about 
one  hundred  and  forty  years  before,  and  we 
saw  the  remains  of  a  red-cedar  cross,  erected 
by  his  men  at  the  time  of  his  death  to  mark 
his  grave;  and  though  his  remains  had  been 

31 


€!je  ^utoBio0raj)f)p  of 


removed  to  the  Mission,  at  Point  St.  Ignace, 
the  cross  was  held  sacred  by  the  voyageurs, 
who,  in  passing,  paid  reverence  to  it  by  kneel- 
ing and  making  the  sign  of  the  cross.  It  was 
about  three  feet  above  the  ground,  and  in  a 
falling  condition.  We  re-set  it,  leaving  it  out 
of  the  ground  about  two  feet,  and  as  I  never 
saw  it  after,  I  doubt  not  that  it  was  covered 
by  the  drifting  sands  of  the  following  winter, 
and  that  no  white  man  ever  saw  it  afterwards. 

We  proceeded  on  our  voyage,  and  on  the 
evening  of  September  30,  18 18,  reached  the 
mouth  of  the  Calumet  River,  then  known  as 
the  "Little  Calumet,"  where  we  met  a  party 
of  Indians  returning  to  their  villages  from  a 
visit  to  Chicago.  They  were  very  drunk,  and 
before  midnight  commenced  a  fight  in  which 
several  of  their  number  were  killed.  Owing 
to  this  disturbance  we  removed  our  camp  to 
the  opposite  side  of  the  river  and  spent  the 
remainder  of  the  night  in  dressing  ourselves 
and  preparing  for  our  advent  into  Chicago. 

We  started  at  dawn.  The  morning  was 
calm  and  bright,  and  we,  in  our  holiday  attire, 
with  flags  flying,  completed  the  last  twelve 
miles  of  our  lake  voyage.  Arriving  at  Douglas 
Grove,  where  the  prairie  could  be  seen  through 
the  oak  woods,  I  landed,  and  climbing  a  tree, 
gazed  in  admiration  on  the  first  prairie  I  had 
ever  seen.  The  waving  grass,  intermingling 
with  a  rich  profusion  of  wild  flowers,  was  the 
most  beautiful  sight  I  had  ever  gazed  upon. 
3a 


<Durtion  J>altmt^n  J^uBBarti 

In  the  distance  the  grove  of  Blue  Island 
loomed  up,  beyond  it  the  timber  on  the  Des- 
plaines  River,  while  to  give  animation  to  the 
scene,  a  herd  of  wild  deer  appeared,  and  a  pair 
of  red  foxes  emerged  from  the  grass  within 
gunshot  of  me. 

Looking  north,  I  saw  the  whitewashed  build- 
ings of  Fort  Dearborn  sparkling  in  the  sun- 
shine, our  boats  with  flags  flying,  and  oars 
keeping  time  to  the  cheering  boat  song.  I 
was  spell-bound  and  amazed  at  the  beautiful 
scene  before  me.  I  took  the  trail  leading  to 
the  fort,  and,  on  my  arrival,  found  our  party 
camped  on  the  north  side  of  the  river,  near 
what  is  now  State  street.  A  soldier  ferried  me 
across  the  river  in  a  canoe,  and  thus  I  made 
my  first  entry  into  Chicago,  October  i,  i8i8. 

We  were  met  upon  landing  by  Mr.  Kinzie, 
and  as  soon  as  our  tents  were  pitched,  were 
called  upon  by  the  officers  of  the  fort,  to  all  of 
whom  I  was  introduced  by  Mr.  Deschamps  as 
his  boy.  I  presented  my  letter  of  introduction 
to  Mr.  Kinzie,  and  with  it  a  package  sent  by 
his  son.  In  the  afternoon  I  called  at  Mr. 
Kinzie 's  house,  and  had  the  pleasure  of  meet- 
ing his  family — consisting  of  Mrs.  Kinzie ;  their 
eldest  daughter,  Mrs.  Helm;  their  youngest 
daughter,  Maria,  now  the  wife  of  Major-General 
David  Hunter,  of  the  U.  S.  Army,  and  their 
youngest  son,  Robert,  late  paymaster  of  the 
U.  S.  Army,  all  of  whom  extended  to  me  a 
cordial  welcome.     As  I  had  so  recently  seen 

33 


€|je  ^utoliiograpljp  of 


John,  and  had  been  so  intimate  with  him,  I 
had  much  of  interest  to  tell  them. 

I  was  invited  to  breakfast  with  them  the 
next  morning,  and  gladly  accepted.  As  I  sat 
down  to  the  neat  and  well-ordered  table  for 
the  first  time  since  I  left  my  father's  house, 
memories  of  home  and  those  dear  to  me  forced 
themselves  upon  me,  and  I  could  not  suppress 
my  tears.  But  for  the  kindness  of  Mrs.  Kinzie 
I  should  have  beaten  a  hasty  retreat.  She  saw 
my  predicament  and  said,  "I  know  just  how 
you  feel,  and  know  more  about  you  than  you 
think;  I  am  going  to  be  a  mother  to  you  if  you 
will  let  me.  Just  come  with  me  a  moment." 
She  led  me  into  an  adjoining  room  and  left  me 
to  bathe  my  eyes  in  cold  water.  When  I  came 
to  the  table  I  noticed  that  they  had  suspended 
eating,  awaiting  my  return.  I  said  to  Mrs. 
Kinzie,  "You  reminded  me  so  much  of  my 
mother,  I  could  not  help  crying;  my  last  meal 
with  her  was  when  I  left  Montreal,  and  since 
then  I  have  never  sat  at  a  table  with  ladies, 
and  this  seems  like  home  to  me."  Mr.  Kin- 
zie's  house  was  a  long  log  cabin,  with  a  rude 
piazza,  and  fronted  the  river  directly  opposite 
Fort  Dearborn. 


FORT  DEARBORN. 

Fort  Dearborn  was  first  established  in  1804, 
on  the  south  bank  of  Chicago  River  near  where 
it  then  discharged  into  lake  Michigan. 
34 


<6urtion  J>alton^taIl  J^ubtiarti 

It  was  evacuated  August  15,  1812,  by  Capt. 
N.  Heald,  1st  U.  S.  Infantry,  who  was  then  in 
command,  and  it  was  on  the  same  day  destroyed 
by  the  Indians. 

It  was  rebuilt  on  the  old  site  in  June,  18 16, 
by  Capt.  Hezekiah  Bradley,  3d  U.  S.  Infan- 
try, and  occupied  by  troops  until  October,  1823, 
when  it  was  again  vacated  and  left  in  charge 
of  Alexander  Wolcott,  Indian  Agent. 

Re-occupied,  October  3,  1828. 

Troops  again  withdrawn.  May  20,  183 1. 

Re-occupied,  June  17,  1832. 

Again  vacated,  July  11,  1832. 

Re-occupied,  October  i,  1832. 

And  finally  abandoned,  December  29,  1836. 

I  have  been  unable  to  find  from  the  records 
of  the  War  Department  by  whom  this  post 
was  originally  established,  but  find  it  to  have 
been  commanded,  after  its  re-establishment,  by 
officers  as  follows: 

Capt.  Hezekiah  Bradley,  3d  U.  S.  Infantry, 
from  June,  18 16,  to  May,  18 17. 

Brev.  Maj.  D.  Baker,  3d  U.  S.  Infantry, 
to  June,  1820. 

Capt.  H.  Bradley,  3d  U.  S.  Infantry,  to 
January,  1821. 

Maj.  Alexander  Cummings,  3d  U.  S.  In- 
fantry, to  October,  1822. 

Lieut. -Col.  McNeil,  3d  U.  S.  Infantry,  to 
October,  1823. 

Fort  not  garrisoned  from  October,  1823,  to 
October  3,  1828. 

3$ 


€fje  9lutoliio0rap|jp  of 


Capt.  John  Fowle,  5th  U.  S.  Infantry,  from 
October  3,  1828,  to  December  21,  1830. 

Lieut.  David  Hunter,  5th  U.  S.  Infantry,  to 
May  20, 1 83 1 ,  when  the  troops  were  withdrawn. 

Maj.  William  Whistler,  2d  U.  S.  Infantry, 
from  June  17,  1832,  to  July  ii,  1832,  and 
from  October  i,  1832,  to  June  19,  1833. 

When  I  first  saw  Fort  Dearborn  it  was  a 
stockade  of  oak  pickets  fourteen  feet  long, 
inclosing  a  square  of  about  six  hundred  feet. 

A  block  house  stood  at  the  southwest  comer, 
and  a  bastion  in  the  northwest  corner,  about  a 
hundred  feet  from  which  was  the  river. 

In  the  first  fort  an  underground  passage  was 
constructed  from  the  bastion  to  the  river's 
edge,  but  this  was  not  kept  open  during  the 
occupancy  of  the  second,  but  was  kept  in  con- 
dition to  be  speedily  re-opened  should  occasion 
ever  require  it. 

The  officers'  quarters  were  outside  of  the 
pickets,  fronting  east  on  the  parade,  and  was 
a  two-story  building  of  hewn  logs.  A  piazza 
extended  along  the  entire  front  on  a  line  with 
the  floor  of  the  second  story,  and  was  reached 
by  stairs  on  the  outside. 

The  first  story  was  divided  into  kitchen, 
dining  and  store  rooms,  while  the  second  story 
was  in  one  large  room.  The  roof  was  covered 
with  split  clapboards  about  four  feet  long. 

The  soldiers'  quarters  were  also  of  logs,  and 
similar  to  the  officers',  except  that  both  stories 
were  finished  off  and  divided  into  rooms. 
36 


<{3urtion  ^alton^rtaH  I^ubBarti 

In  the  northeast  corner  was  the  sutler's 
store,  also  built  of  logs,  while  at  the  north 
and  south  sides  were  gates  opening  to  the 
parade  ground. 

On  each  side  of  the  south  gate  were  guard- 
houses, about  ten  feet  square. 

The  commissary  storehouse  was  two  stories 
in  height,  and  stood  east  of  the  guardhouse 
and  south  of  the  soldiers'  quarters. 

The  magazine  was  constructed  of  brick,  and 
was  situated  west  of  the  guardhouse,  and 
near  the  block  house.  The  stockade  and  all 
the  buildings  were  neatly  whitewashed,  and 
presented  a  neat  and  pleasing  appearance. 

West,  and  a  little  south,  of  the  fort  was  the 
military  bam,  adjoining  which,  on  the  east, 
was  the  fort  garden,  of  about  four  acres,  which 
extended  so  as  to  front  the  fort  on  the  south, 
its  eastern  line  of  fence  connecting  with  and 
forming  a  part  of  the  field  extending  south 
about  half  a  mile. 

Adjoining  this  fence  on  the  east  was  the 
only  road  leading  from  the  fort  in  either  direc- 
tion. The  south  line  of  the  garden  fence 
extended  to  the  edge  of  the  river,  and  a  fence 
from  the  west  end  of  the  barn  extended  north 
to  the  river,  so  that  the  fort  was  wholly  in- 
closed by  fence  from  river  to  river.  The 
inclosure  between  the  stockade  and  the  outer 
fences  was  covered  with  grass  and  adorned 
with  trees  and  shrubbery. 

The  well  was  in  the  outer  inclosure  and  near 
37 


Cfje  ^utobiograjjfjp  of 


the  south  gate,  while  about  two  hundred  feet 
from  the  north  gate  was  the  river,  a  stream  of 
clear,  pure  water,  fed  from  the  lake. 

On  the  east  side  of  the  fort  the  river  was 
from  four  to  five  hundred  feet  from  the  pick- 
ets, and  a  part  of  this  distance  was  a  low,  sandy 
beach,  where  rude  wash-houses  had  been 
constructed,  in  which  the  men  and  women 
of  the  garrison  conducted  their  laundry  oper- 
ations. 

Just  east  of  the  road,  and  adjoining  the 
fence  running  east  to  the  river,  was  the  "Fac- 
tor House,"  a  two-story,  squared-log  struc- 
ture, inclosed  by  a  neat  split-picket  fence. 
This  building  was  occupied  from  1804  to  about 
the  year  1810  by  a  Mr.  Jouett,  United  States 
factor,  and  by  the  west  side  of  the  road,  adjoin- 
ing the  government  garden,  in  a  picket-fence 
inclosure,  was  the  grave  of  his  wife.  At  the 
second  construction  of  the  fort  he  was  suc- 
ceeded by  John  Dean. 

For  a  distance  of  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from 
the  "Factor  House"  there  was  no  fence, 
building,  or  other  obstruction  between  the 
government-field  fence  and  the  river  or  lake. 
Another  house  of  hewn  logs  stood  twelve 
hundred  or  more  feet  from  the  road,  and  back 
of  it  flowed  the  Chicago  River,  which,  as  late 
as  1827,  emptied  into  Lake  Michigan  at  a 
point  known  as  "The  Pines,"  a  clump  of  a 
hundred  or  more  stunted  pine  trees  on  the 
sand-hills  about  a  mile  from  the  fort.  On  the 
38 


oBurtion  ^alton^tall  i^uBliarti 

edge  of  the  river,  directly  east  of  this  house, 
and  distant  about  four  hundred  feet,  stood  a 
storehouse  of  round  logs,  owned  by  the  Ameri- 
can Fur  Company  and  occupied  by  its  agent, 
Mr.  John  Craft,  who  erected  it.  This  house 
was  surrounded  by  a  rail  fence,  and,  after  the 
death  of  Mr.  Craft,  was  occupied  by  Jean 
Baptiste  Beaubien. 

Adjoining  this  storehouse  on  the  south  was 
the  fort  burying-ground.  The  east  line  of  the 
government  field  extended  to  about  this  point, 
and  thence  west  to  the  south  branch  of  the 
river.  These,  with  the  addition  of  a  log  cabin 
near  the  present  Bridgeport,  called  "Hard- 
scrabble,"  a  cabin  on  the  north  side  occupied 
by  Antoine  Ouilmette,  and  the  house  of  Mr. 
Kinzie,  comprised  all  the  buildings 'within  the 
present  limits  of  Cook  County. 

Between  the  river  and  the  lake,  and  extend- 
ing south  to  "The  Pines,"  was  a  narrow 
strip  of  sand  formed  by  the  northeast  winds 
gradually  forcing  the  mouth  of  the  river  south 
of  its  natural  and  original  outlet  at  Fort 
Dearborn. 

In  the  spring  of  1828,  the  Chicago  River 
had  a  strong  current  caused  by  flood;  and, 
taking  advantage  of  this,  the  officer  command- 
ing at  the  fort  ordered  some  of  his  men  to  cut 
a  passage  through  the  spit  of  land  at  the  com- 
mencement of  the  bend  and  parallel  with  the 
north  side  of  the  fort.  It  was  the  work  of  but 
an  hour  or  two  to  dig  a  ditch  down  to  the  level 
39 


€lj0  ^utofiiograjjfjp  of 


of  the  river,  and  the  water  being  let  in,  the  force 
of  the  current  soon  washed  a  straight  channel 
through  to  the  lake  fifteen  or  more  feet  deep; 
but  the  ever-shifting  sand  soon  again  filled  this 
channel,  and  the  mouth  of  the  river  worked 
south  to  about  where  Madison  street  now  is. 

To  Captain  Fowle,  however,  are  we  indebted 
for  the  first  attempt  to  make  a  harbor  of  the 
Chicago  River. 

The  officers  amused  themselves  with  fishing 
and  hunting;  deer,  red  fox,  and  wild-fowl  were 
abundant.  Foxes  burrowed  in  the  sand-hills 
and  were  often  dug  out,  brought  to  the  fort, 
and  let  loose  upon  the  sand-bar  formed  by  the 
outlet  of  the  river.  They  were  then  chased 
by  hounds,  nien  being  stationed  so  as  to 
prevent  their  escape  from  the  bar.  These  fox 
hunts  were  very  exciting,  and  were  enjoyed 
by  Indians  and  whites  alike.  None  of  the 
officers  were  married,  and  as  the  sutler's 
store  furnished  the  only  means  of  spending 
their  money  they  were  forced  to  be  frugal  and 
saving.     They  were  a  convivial,  jolly  set. 

Fort  Wayne,  Indiana,  was  the  nearest  post- 
office,  and  the  mail  was  carried  generally  by 
soldiers  on  foot  and  was  received  once  a  month. 
The  wild  onion  grew  in  great  quantities  along 
the  banks  of  the  river,  and  in  the  woods  adjoin- 
ing, the  leek  abounded,  and  doubtless  Chicago 
derived  its  name  from  the  onion  and  not,  as 
some  suppose,  from  the  (animal)  skunk.  The 
Indian  name  for  this  animal  is  chi-kack,  for 
40 


<iBurtion  .^aftonieftan  J^uliliarti 

the  vegetable,  chi-goug;  both  words  were  used 
to  indicate  strong  odors. 

What  is  now  known  as  the  North  Branch 
was  then  known  as  River  Guarie,  named  after 
the  first  trader  that  followed  La  Salle.  The 
field  he  cultivated  was  traceable  on  the  prairie 
by  the  distinct  marks  of  the  cornhills. 

MUD  LAKE.— ISLE  LA  CACHE.— STARVED 
ROCK.  —  FORT   CLARK.  —  ENCOUNTER         « 
WITH  AN  INDIAN.  — ST.  LOUIS.  ' 

After  a  few  days  at  Chicago,  spent  in  repair- 
ing our  boats,  we  struck  camp  and  proceeded 
up  the  lagoon,  or  what  is  now  known  as  the. 
South  Branch,  camping  at  a  point  near  the 
present  commencement  of  the  Illinois  and 
Michigan  Canal,  where  we  remained  one  day 
preparing  to  pass  our  boats  through  Mud  Lake 
into  the  Aux  Plaines  River. 

Mud  Lake  drained  partly  into  the  Aux 
Plaines  and  partly  through  a  narrow,  crooked 
channel  into  the  South  Branch,  and  only  in 
very  wet  seasons  was  there  sufficient  water  to 
float  an  empty  boat.  The  mud  was  very  deep, 
and  along  the  edge  of  the  lake  grew  tall  grass 
and  wild  rice,  often  reaching  above  a  man's 
head,  and  so  strong  and  dense  it  was  almost 
impossible  to  walk  through  them. 

Our  empty  boats  were  pulled  up  the  channel, 
and  in  many  places,  where  there  was  no  water 
and  a  hard  clay  bottom,  they  were  placed  on 

41 


]? 


€f)c  ^utobiograjjl^p  of 


short  rollers,  and  in  this  way  moved  along  until 
the  lake  was  reached,  where  we  found  mud 
thick  and  deep,  but  only  at  rare  intervals  was 
there  water.  Forked  tree  branches  were  tied 
upon  the  ends  of  the  boat  poles,  and  these 
afforded  a  bearing  on  the  tussocks  of  grass  and 
roots,  which  enabled  the  men  in  the  boat 
to  push  to  some  purpose.  Four  men  only 
remained  in  a  boat  and  pushed  with  these  poles, 
while  six  or  eight  others  waded  in  the  mud 
alongside,  and  by  united  efforts  constantly 
jerking  it  along,  so  that  from  early  dawn  to 
dark  we  succeeded  only  in  passing  a  part  of 
our  boats  through  to  the  Aux  Plaines  outlet, 
where  we  found  the  first  hard  ground.  While 
a  part  of  our  crew  were  thus  employed,  others 
busied  themselves  in  transporting  our  goods 
on  their  backs  to  the  river;  it  was  a  laborious 
day  for  all. 

Those  who  waded  through  the  mud  fre- 
quently sank  to  their  waist,  and  at  times  were 
forced  to  cling  to  the  side  of  the  boat  to  prevent 
going  over  their  heads;  after  reaching  the  end 
and  camping  for  the  night  came  the  task  of 
ridding  themselves  from  the  blood  suckers. 

The  lake  was  full  of  these  abominable  black 
plagues,  and  they  stuck  so  tight  to  the  skin 
that  they  broke  in  pieces  if  force  was  used  to 
remove  them;  experience  had  taught  the  use 
of  a  decoction  of  tobacco  to  remove  them, 
and  this  was  resorted  to  with  good  success. 

Having  rid  ourselves  of  the  blood  suckers, 
42 


we  were  assailed  by  myriads  of  mosquitoes, 
that  rendered  sleep  hopeless,  though  we  sought 
the  softest  spots  on  the  ground  for  our  beds. 

Those  who  had  waded  the  lake  suffered 
great  agony,  their  limbs  becoming  swollen  and 
inflamed,  and  their  sufferings  were  not  ended 
for  two  or  three  days. 

It  took  us  three  consecutive  days  of  such 
toil  to  pass  all  our  boats  through  this  miser- 
able lake;"  when  we  finally  camped  on  the 
^  banks  of  the  river,  our  goods  had  all  crossed 
the  portage  and  we  were  once  more  ready  to 
proceed. 

Our  boats  being  again  loaded,  we  resumed 
our  voyage  down  the  Desplaines  until  we 
reached  Isle  La  Cache,  where  low  water  com- 
pelled us  to  again  unload  our  goods  in  order 
to  pass  our  boats  over  the  shoal  that  here  pre- 
sented itself;  and  again  we  camped  after  a 
hard  day's  labor. 

Isle  La  Cache  took  its  name  from  a  circum- 
stance in  the  life  of  Mr.  Sara,  a  trader  who, 
when  on  his  way  with  loaded  canoes  from 
Montreal  to  St.  Louis,  with  goods  for  the 
Indian  trade  on  the  Ohio  River,  camped  at  this 
point.  A  band  of  Indians  demanded  of  him 
some  of  his  goods  as  a  tribute  for  the  privilege 
of  passing  down  the  river;  this  was  refused. 
The  Indians  then  returned  to  their  village,  a 
short  distance  below,  held  a  council  and  deter- 
mined to  stop  his  canoes  as  he  passed  their 
village,  and  take  by  force  what  he  had  refused 

43 


€lje  ^utobio0rapjjp  of 


to  give.  Some  of  them,  however,  opposed 
this  robbery,  and  one  of  the  band  reported  the 
action  of  the  council  to  Mr.  Sara. 

The  night  was  dark  and  misty  and  Mr.  Sara 
determined  to  pass  if  possible  by  strategy,  but 
to  fight  rather  than  accede  to  their  demands. 
Fearing  he  might  be  overcome  by  numbers 
and  thus  lose  his  goods,  and  in  order  to  lighten 
his  canoes,  so  that  he  could  pass  rapidly  over 
the  shoal  places  in  the  river,  he  ordered  the 
most  valuable  portion  of  his  goods  removed  to 
a  grove,  about  a  mile  distant  on  the  prairie, 
and  there  hid  them  in  holes  dug  in  the  ground 
(caches),  removing  the  surplus  earth  to  a  dis- 
tance, and  carefully  smoothing  over  the  spot, 
so  that  no  trace  of  the  hiding  place  could  be 
seen;  he  then  armed  his  men  with  guns,  toma- 
hawks, and  knives,  and  at  daybreak  started  on 
his  way  down  the  river. 

Stopping  at  the  village,  he  stationed  his  men 
so  as  to  guard  the  canoes,  and  then  called  on 
the  Indians  for  a  talk,  which  was  granted;  he 
told  them  that  he  should  defend  his  goods;  that 
the  Great  Father,  the  French  King,  had  given 
him  permission  to  go  to  the  Ohio  River,  and 
showed  them  a  parchment  ornamented  with 
numerous  ribbons  and  large  red  seals;  he  said  to 
them,  "here  is  my  evidence,  the  King  has  made 
this  writing,  and  it  tells  you  that  I  must  not  be 
stopped  or  disturbed  in  passing  through  the 
nations  of  his  red  children;  if  any  harm  shall 
come  to  me  he  will  revenge  it  by  sending  an 
44 


4B>urtion  ^alton^taH  J^ubtiarti 

army  to  destroy  them  and  take  possession  of 
their  country." 

This  speech  and  demonstration  had  the 
desired  effect,  and  the  Indians  were  glad  to 
excuse  themselves;  they  however  said  that  they 
were  poor  and  needed  clothing  and  tobacco;  that 
they  had  no  powder  and  but  few  guns,  and  were 
preparing  to  send  a  delegation  to  St.  Louis  to 
see  their  Great  Father's  Captain  to  state  their 
condition  and  make  known  their  wants. 

Mr.  Sara  replied  that  he  was  authorized 
to  give  them  a  present  from  their  Great  Father, 
and  that  he  should  have  done  so  but  for  their 
demand  and  threat,  but  as  they  had  repented, 
he  would  now  give  it  to  them;  whereupon  he 
handed  them  a  small  bale,  which  he  had  pre- 
viously prepared  for  that  purpose,  and  orna- 
mented with  ribbons  and  sealing  wax.  The 
bale  contained  a  few  pieces  of  calico,  powder 
and  shot,  tobacco  and  flints,  and  steels  for 
striking  fire,  which  delighted  them  exceedingly. 

He  then  said  to  them,  "You  see  my  canoes 
are  light;  I  have  but  little  in  them,  but  when  I 
camped  last  night  you  saw  them  heavily  loaded. 
I  had  a  dream;  the  Spirit  told  me  you  held  a 
council,  and  determined  to  rob  me  when  I 
passed  your  village  this  morning;  that  is  why 
you  see  my  men  with  guns,  tomahawks,  and 
knives,  with  which  to  defend  themselves;  we 
did  not  fear  you,  though  there  are  many  of  you 
and  we  are  but  few,  though  you  might  have 
overpowered  us;  we  are  now  friends,  and  I 
45 


€|je  ^utoBiograjJijp  of 


want  you  to  help  us;  go  with  my  men,  take 
your  pack-horses  and  bring  the  goods  I  have 
left  behind  and  help  us  down  the  river  with  our 
boats  until  we  reach  the  deep  water  below  the 
shoals,  when  I  will  give  you  another  bale  of 
goods  in  token  of  my  friendship,  and  bid  you 
farewell."  To  this  they  consented;  the  goods 
were  removed  from  their  hiding  piace  and 
transported  on  horses  to  the  confluence  of  the 
Desplaines  and  Kankakee  Rivers  and  again 
loaded  in  the  canoes;  the  Indians  being  both 
surprised  and  amused  at  his  strategy.  This  is 
the  story  as  related  to  me. 

Our  progress  from  this  point  was  very  slow 
indeed,  and  most  of  the  distance  to  the  Illinois 
River  our  goods  were  carried  on  our  backs, 
while  our  lightened  boats  were  pulled  over  the 
shallow  places,  often  being  compelled  to  place 
poles  under  them,  and  on  these  drag  them 
over  the  rocks  and  shoals.  In  this  manner 
almost  three  weeks  were  occupied  in  reaching 
the  mouth  of  Fox  River,  and  two  days  more 
brought  us  to  the  foot  of  Starved  Rock. 
Parkman,  in  his  Discovery  of  the  Great  West, 
thus  describes  this  romantic  and  picturesque 
spot: 

"The  cliff  called  'Starved  Rock,'  now  pointed  out 
to  travelers  as  the  chief  natural  curiosity  of  the  region, 
rises  steep  on  three  sides  as  a  castle  wall  to  the 
height  of  a  hundred  and  twenty-five  feet  above  the 
river.  In  front,  it  overhangs  the  water  that  washes 
its  base ;  its  western  brow  looks  down  on  the  tops  of 
the  forest  trees  below;  and  on  the  east  lies  a  wide 
46 


gorge  or  ravine,  choked  with  the  mingled  foliage 
of  oaks,  walnuts,  and  elms ;  while  in  its  rocky  depths 
a  little  brook  creeps  down  to  mingle  with  the  river. 

From  the  rugged  trunk  of  the  stunted  cedar  that 
leans  forward  from  the  brink,  you  may  drop  a 
plummet  into  the  river  below,  where  the  catfish  and 
the  turtles  may  plainly  be  seen  gliding  over  the 
wrinkled  sands  of  the  clear  shallow  current.  The 
cliff  is  accessible  only  from  behind,  where  a  man 
may  climb  up,  not  without  difficulty,  by  a  steep  and 
narrow  passage.    The  top  is  about  an  acre  in  extent.' ' 

After  leaving  Starved  Rock  we  met  with  no 
further  detentions  from  scarcity  of  water.  We 
passed  on  our  way  a  number  of  Indian  villages 
and  stopped  a  few  hours  at  each,  not  for  the 
purpose  of  trading,  but  only  to  barter  tobacco 
and  powder  for  meat  and  Indian  com.  We 
were  treated  kindly  by  all,  and  felt  perfectly 
safe  among  them;  they  were  all  acquainted 
with  our  traders,  and  knew  where  the  trading 
houses  were  to  be  located,  from  which  they 
would  obtain  their  hunting  outfits. 

Opposite  the  mouth  of  Bureau  River,  and 
about  a  mile  above  the  present  site  of  the  town 
of  Hennepin,  our  first  trading  house  was 
located,  and  placed  in  charge  of  Mr.  Beebeau, 
who  for  many  years  had  been  a  trader  in  that 
region.  I  was  assigned  to  this  post  and  was 
to  have  charge  of  the  accounts,  as  neither 
Beebeau  nor  any  of  the  men  could  read  or 
write.  Beebeau  kept  his  accounts  with  the 
Indians  by  a  system  of  hieroglyphics. 

I  was  permitted  by  Mr.  Deschamps  to 
accompany  him  to  St.  Louis,  whither  he  went 

47 


€l&e  ^utof»io0ra})J)p  of 


with  one  boat  to  purchase  supplies  of  tobacco 
and  some  other  needed  articles  from  the  French 
people  at  Cahokia.  Beebeau  received  his 
invoices  of  goods  and  detail  of  men,  and  we 
proceeded  onward. 

Our  next  post  was  located  three  miles  below 
Lake  Peoria,  and  about  sixty  miles  from 
Bureau,  and  was  placed  in  charge  of  old  Mr. 
Beason,  a  venerable  man,  who  had  long  been  a 
trader  on  this  river,  and  was  well  and  favorably 
known  by  the  Indians;  this  we  called  Opa  post. 

As  we  rounded  the  point  of  the  lake  above 
Peoria,  we  discovered  that  old  Fort  Clark  was 
on  fire,  and  upon  reaching  it  we  found  Indians 
to  the  number  of  about  two  hundred  engaged  in 
a  war  dance;  they  were  hideously  painted,  and 
had  scalps  on  their  spears  and  in  their  sashes, 
which  they  had  taken  from  Americans  during 
the  war  with  Great  Britain  from  i8i2to  1815. 

A  young  brave  having  noticed  me,  inquired 
who  I  was,  and  Mr.  Deschamps  replied  that  I 
was  his  adopted  son  from  Montreal.  This  an- 
swer he  gave  to  allay  the  suspicion  that  had 
arisen  that  I  was  an  American,  a  nation  then 
much  disliked  by  the  Indians. 

The  Indian  doubted  the  truth  of  Mr.  Des- 
champs' statement,  insisted  that  I  was  an 
American,  and  endeavored  to  force  a  quarrel 
with  me.  Mr.  Deschamps  left  me  in  the  boat 
in  charge  of  one  of  the  men,  and  went  among 
the  Indians  to  converse  with  them. 

Using  this  man  as  an  interpreter,  the  Indian 
48 


resumed  the  conversation  with  me,  and  saying 
that  I  was  an  American,  took  from  his  sash, 
one  after  another,  a  number  of  scalps,  and 
showing  them  to  me,  told  me  they  were  the 
scalps  of  my  people.  I  was  trembling  with 
fear,  which  he  observed,  and  drawing  from  his 
sash  a  long-haired  scalp,  he  wet  it  and  sprinkled 
the  water  in  my  face.  In  a  moment  my  fear 
turned  to  rage,  and  seizing  Mr.  Deschamps* 
double-barreled  gun,  which  lay  in  the  bottom  of 
the  boat,  I  took  deliberate  aim  at  him  and  fired. 
The  man  who  was  left  with  me,  seeing  my  in- 
tention, struck  up  the  gun  and  saved  the 
Indian's  life,  and  probably  my  own  and  that  of 
others  of  our  party.  Hearing  the  report  of 
the  gun  and  the  consequent  confusion,  Mr. 
Deschamps  and  the  men  with  him  came  run- 
ning back  to  the  boats,  and  after  a  short  con- 
sultation Mr.  Deschamps  ordered  the  boats  to 
push  out,  and  we  started  down  the  stream. 
This  incident  left  such  an  impression  on  my 
mind  that  no  doubt  exists  with  me  as  to  the 
time  of  the  burning  of  Fort  Clark. 

Having  given  Mr.  Beason  his  outfit  and  left 
with  him  one  of  our  boats,  we  pursued  our 
journey,  establishing  posts  every  sixty  miles,  the 
last  one  being  about  fifty  miles  above  the 
mouth  of  the  river. 

From  this  point  we  departed  with  but  one 
boat,  with  a  picked  crew  of  men,  all  in  high 
glee  and  singing  a  Canadian  boat  song,  in 
which   Mr.  Deschamps,  as  usual,  led.     We 

49 


€f)e  ^utoBiogtapJip  of 


made  rapid  progress,  and  when  we  again  camped 
it  was  at  the  mouth  of  the  Illinois  River.  On 
the  following  day,  November  sixth,  at  about 
two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  we  reached  St. 
Louis.  Our  boat  was  soon  surrounded  by 
the  friends  of  Mr.  Deschamps,  among  whom 
were  many  priests,  and  all  united  in  a  hearty 
greeting. 

I  knew  my  father  and  brother  should  be  at 
this  place,  but  where  to  find  them  I  could  not 
tell.  My  anxiety  to  see  them  was  so  great  that 
I  went  into  the  nearest  tavern,  but  found  no 
trace  of  them  there.  As  I  was  on  the  street 
I  passed  a  gentleman  who  seemed  to  notice  me; 
I  turned  and  spoke  to  him,  telling  him  I  was  a 
stranger  in  search  of  my  father.  He  thought 
a  moment,  then  said,  "  The  name  sounds  famil- 
iar; I  think  I  was  introduced  to  him  at  Mr. 
Paddock's."  I  asked  him  if  Mr.  Paddock 
came  from  Vermont;  he  replied  in  the  affirm- 
ative, and  directed  me  to  his  house,  which  I 
soon  found.  The  door  was  opened  by  a  pretty 
young  girl,  who  told  me  that  he  was  at  Mr. 
Enos',  who  was  also  a  Vermonter  and  an  old 
friend  of  our  family.  Here  at  last  I  found  my 
father,  who  was  conversing  with  Mr.  Enos. 
He  did  not  recognize  me,  so  much  had  I  changed 
since  our  parting,  though  only  six  months  had 
passed.  I  was  then  thin  and  pale  from  close 
confinement  in  the  store,  but  with  the  outdoor 
life  and  exposure,  I  had  gained  in  weight  and 
strength,  and  become  as  brown  as  an  Indian. 
50 


On  inquiring  for  my  brother,  I  learned  that 
he  was  employed  in  a  drug  store  near  by, 
where  we  found  him  pounding  something  in  a 
mortar.  Though  I  did  not  speak  he  knew  me 
at  once,  and  exclaimed,  "O,  brother!  brother!" 
bursting  into  tears.  The  meeting  was  a  joyous 
one,  and  I  think  the  day  the  happiest  of  my 
life. 

At  this  time  St.  Louis  had  a  population  of 
about  eight  hundred,  composed  of  French, 
English,  Spanish,  and  American. 

Cahokia,  a  French  town  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  river,  was  then  the  largest,  it  having 
a  population  of  about  one  thousand.  There 
Mr.  Deschamps  made  most  of  his  purchases 
of  flour  and  tobacco,  which,  with  some  mer- 
chandise bought  in  St.  Louis,  completed  our 
return  cargo. 

This  French  village  was  then  a  jolly  place. 
Mr.  Deschamps  was  a  favorite  with  all,  and 
was  treated  as  the  distinguished  guest  of  every 
family.  There  was  dancing  at  some  of  the 
houses  every  night;  and  even  the  priests  claimed 
his  assistance  in  their  singing. 

I  was  permitted  to  remain  in  St.  Louis  with 
my  father  and  brother,  being  required  to 
report  daily  to  Mr.  Deschamps,  and  perform 
such  duties  as  were  assigned  to  me.  My  home 
was  at  Mr.  Paddock's,  with  my  brother,  and 
here  I  was  treated  very  kindly  by  all  the  family. 
My  father  was  preparing  to  go  to  Arkansas, 
with   the    intention   of   locating  pernunently 

51 


€J)e  ^utoBiograpftp  of 


there ;  and  when,  at  the  end  of  two  weeks,  we 
parted,  it  was  our  farewell,  as  I  never  saw  him 
again. 

SHAUB-E-NEE.  —  WA-BA  AND  CHE-MO- 
CO-MON-ESS.  —  TIPPECANOE  BATTLE 
GROUND.— THE  FEAST  OF  THE  DEAD. 

About  the  twentieth  of  November  we  started 
on  our  return  voyage,  ascending  the  Mississippi 
and  Illinois  Rivers  and  distributing  to  our 
various  trading  posts  portions  of  our  cargo.  I 
reached  my  station  between  the  tenth  and  fif- 
teenth of  December,  where  Mr.  Deschamps, 
after  giving  me  particular  instructions  as  to  my 
duties,  and  opening  the  books,  left  me  with  his 
blessing.  The  accounts  had  heretofore  been 
kept  in  hieroglyphics  by  Beebeau,  my  ignorant 
master,  who  proved  to  be  sickly,  cross,  and 
petulant.  He  spent  the  greater  part  of  his 
time  in  bed,  attended  by  a  fat,  dirty  Indian 
woman,  a  doctress,  who  made  and  adminis- 
tered various  decoctions  to  him.  One  of  our 
men,  Antoine,  had  an  Indian  wife  and  two 
children,  the  oldest  a  boy  about  my  own  age, 
but  who  was  not  regularly  in  the  employ  of  the 
Company. 

My  trouble  at  Fort  Clark,  and  the  circum- 
stances attending  it,  had  become  known  to  the 
Indians  in  the  vicinity  of  our  post.  Their  chief 
was  Wa-ba,  and  soon  after  my  arrival  he, 
accompanied  by  Shaub-e-nee,  called  on  me, 

52 


<Durticni  J>altonjGftan  IpuBBarti 

saying  they  wished  to  see  the  little  American 
brave.  Shaub-e-nee  was  then  about  twenty- 
five  years  of  age,  and  was,  I  thought,  the  finest 
looking  man  I  had  ever  seen.  He  was  fully 
six  feet  in  height,  finely  proportioned,  and  with 
a  countenance  expressive  of  intelligence,  firm- 
ness and  kindness.  He  was  one  of  Tecumseh's 
aids  at  the  battle  of  the  Thames,  being  at  his 
side  when  Tecumseh  was  shot.  Becoming  dis- 
gusted with  the  conduct  of  General  Proctor,  he, 
with  Billy  Caldwell  (the  Sauganash),  withdrew 
their  support  from  the  British  and  espoused 
the  cause  of  the  Americans.  Shaub-e-nee,  in 
after  years,  during  the  Black  Hawk  War,  was 
indefatigable  in  notifying  the  white  settlers  in 
DuPage,  Grundy  and  La  Salle  Counties  of 
threatened  danger,  often  riding  both  night  and 
day,  in  great  peril,  and  by  his  timely  warning 
and  counsel  saving  the  lives  of  many  settlers. 
He  lived  to  the  age  of  eighty-four  years,  and 
died  July  17,  1859,  at  his  home  in  Morris, 
Grundy  County,  respected  and  beloved  by  all 
who  knew  him. 

Chief  Wa-ba  had  shortly  before  this  lost  a 
son,  of  about  my  own  age,  and  so,  according 
to  the  Indian  custom,  he  adopted  me  in  his 
stead,  naming  me  Che-mo-co-mon-ess  (the  little 
American) .  I  enjoyed  the  friendship  of  Wa-ba 
for  a  number  of  years  and  until  his  death, 
and  I  here  desire  to  deny  the  statement  made 
by  a  historian  of  our  State,  that  Wa-ba  plun- 
dered certain  mounds  and  removed  from  them 

53 


€l)e  Stutobiogtrajjlftp  of 


their  valuable  contents.  Such  a  deed  would 
have  been  wholly  at  variance  with  his  charac- 
ter, which  was  that  of  an  honest  man,  and 
certainly  could  not  have  occurred  without  my 
having  heard  of  it,  which  I  never  did  until  I 
saw  it  in  the  book  referred  to. 

Wa-ba  had  another  son  who,  with  Antoine's 
son  and  myself,  frequently  hunted  together, 
and  we  all  became  quite  expert. 

Our  cabin  was  built  of  logs,  those  forming 
the  sides  being  laid  one  on  the  other  and  held 
in  place  by  stakes  driven  into  the  ground, 
and  these  fastened  together  at  the  top  by  withes 
of  bark.  The  logs  forming  the  ends  were  of 
smaller  size,  driven  into  the  ground  perpendic- 
ularly, the  centre  ones  being  longer  and  forked 
at  the  top,  and  upon  these  rested  the  ridge 
pole.  Straight-grained  logs  were  then  selected 
and  split  as  thin  as  possible,  making  sections 
of  three  or  four  inches  in  thickness,  which 
were  laid  with  one  end  resting  upon  the  ridge 
pole,  the  other  on  the  logs  which  formed  the 
sides  of  the  cabin;  through  these  was  driven  a 
wooden  pin,  which  rested  against  the  top  log 
on  the  inside  of  the  cabin,  and  projected  eight- 
een inches  or  two  feet  above  the  roof.  The 
cracks  and  openings  of  roof  and  sides  were 
then  daubed  with  a  cement  made  of  clay  mixed 
with  ashes,  and  then  the  whole  roof  was  covered 
with  long  grass,  which  was  held  in  place  by 
other  logs  laid  on  top. 

The  chimney  and  fire-place  were  made  in 
54 


the  following  manner:  At  the  centre  of  one 
side  of  the  room  four  straight  poles  were 
driven  firmly  in  the  ground,  the  front  ones 
being  about  eight  feet  apart  and  the  back  ones 
about  five  feet;  then  small  saplings,  cut  to 
proper  lengths,  were  fastened  by  withes  at  each 
end  to  the  upright  poles,  and  about  eighteen 
inches  apart.  Then  came  the  mortar,  made 
from  clay  and  ashes,  into  which  was  kneaded 
long  grass  so  as  to  form  strips  ten  or  twelve 
inches  in  width  and  about  four  feet  long;  the 
centres  of  these  strips  were  then  placed  or 
hung  on  the  cross  poles  and  pressed  together 
so  as  to  cover  the  wood,  and  in  this  way  the 
chimney  was  carried  up  to  the  top  of  the  up- 
right poles  and  then  three  or  four  feet  above 
the  roof,  or  even  with  the  ridge  pole.  A 
second  coat  of  mortar,  about  two  inches  thick, 
was  then  thrown  on,  pressed  to  the  rough  first 
coat  and  smoothed  with  the  hands;  the  hearth 
was  then  made  of  dry,  stiff  clay,  pounded 
down  hard,  and  the  structure  was  finished. 

The  floor  of  the  cabin  was  made  of  pun- 
cheons, the  surface  of  which  was  dressed  with 
a  common  axe  or  tomahawk,  so  as  to  remove 
the  splinters,  the  edges  being  made  to  fit 
together  as  close  as  possible.  The  door  was 
made  of  the  same  material,  puncheons,  hung 
on  wooden  hinges,  and  fastened  by  a  wooden 
latch  with  back  string  attached,  so  it  could  be 
raised  from  the  outside,  and  when  the  string 
was  pulled  in,  the  door  was  locked. 

55 


Cl^c  ^utobio0raj(Jl)p  of 


To  make  the  window,  one  of  the  logs  in  the 
end  of  the  cabin  was  cut  so  as  to  leave  an 
opening  of  about  eighteen  inches  in  width  by 
twenty  or  thirty  inches  in  length,  into  which 
was  set  a  rough  sash,  and  over  this  was  pasted 
or  glued  paper,  which  had  been  thoroughly  oiled 
with  bear  or  coon  grease.  This  completed 
the  house,  which  was  warm  and  comfortable. 

Our  bunks  were  placed  in  a  row,  one  above 
the  other,  and  were  made  of  puncheons  split 
as  thin  as  possible.  The  bottom  rested  on 
parallel  saplings  cut  to  a  proper  length,  one 
end  of  which  was  inserted  in  a  two-inch  auger 
hole  in  the  logs  of  the  cabin,  and  the  other 
supported  by  a  puncheon  set  upright.  The 
bedding  consisted  of  long,  coarse  grass,  laid 
lengthwise  of  the  bunk,  on  top  of  which  was 
placed  a  skin  of  some  kind  (generally  buckskin) 
or  an  Indian  mat.  At  the  head  the  grass  was 
raised  so  as  to  make  a  pillow,  and  to  each  man 
was  allowed  one  blanket  for  cover. 

The  table,  with  round  sapling  legs,  and  pun- 
cheon top,  and  a  three-legged  stool,  con- 
structed in  the  same  manner,  completed  the 
furniture  of  the  mansion. 

The  only  tools  allowed  to  each  outfit  was  a 
common  axe,  a  two-inch  auger,  an  ordinary 
scalping  knife,  a  crooked  knife  (this  had  a 
blade  six  inches  long  and  rounded  at  the  end), 
and  tomahawk,  and  with  these  implements 
everything  was  constructed,  and  some  of  the 
men  did  excellent  work  with  these  simple  tools. 
56 


<Duttion  J>aIton^an  I^ulibatti 

Our  kitchen  utensils  were  few  and  primitive, 
consisting  of  a  frying-pan,  a  couple  of  tin 
pots,  one  very  large  Indian  bowl  made  of 
wood,  and  several  smaller  ones.  Table  knives 
and  forks  we  had  none,  and  our  spoons 
were  of  wood,  ranging  in  capacity  from  a  gill 
to  a  pint. 

Wood  was,  of  course,  plenty,  and  our  large 
fire-place  was  kept  well  filled. 

A  camp-kettle  chain  was  suspended  from  a 
hook  made  from  the  limb  of  a  tree  and  fast- 
ened to  the  roof,  from  which  also  hung  cords, 
which  were  used  for  roasting  game.  Our 
meat  being  thus  suspended  before  a  bright  fire, 
it  was  the  duty  of  one  man,  with  a  long  stick, 
to  keep  it  whirling  rapidly  until  sufficiently 
cooked,  when  it  was  placed  in  the  large  wooden 
bowl  on  the  table,  and  each  one  helped  him- 
self by  cutting  off  with  his  knife  and  fingers  as 
much  as  he  desired.  Usually  we  had  nothing 
else  on  the  table  except  honey.  The  wild  tur- 
key was  used  as  a  substitute  for  bread,  and 
when  eaten  with  fat  venison,  coon,  or  bear,  is 
more  delicious  than  any  roast  can  be. 

One  of  our  luxuries,  which  was  reserved  for 
special  occasions,  was  corn  soup,  and  this  was 
always  acceptable. 

Those  traders  who  were  so  fortunate  as  to 
possess  an  iron  bake-pan  or  skillet  were  par- 
ticularly favored,  and  the  more  so  if  they  were 
also  possessed  of  flour,  for  then  many  delica- 
cies were  possible,  and  many  kinds  of  chopped 
57 


€l^e  ^utofiio0rapl)p  of 


meats  and  baked  "avingnols"  afforded  a  dish 
not  to  be  refused  by  kings. 

Let  me  give  one  or  two  recipes:  To  one 
pound  of  lean  venison,  add  one  pound  of  the 
breast  of  turkey,  three-fourths  of  a  pound  of 
the  fat  of  bear  or  raccoon;  salt  and  pepper  to 
taste,  and  season  with  the  wild  onion  or  leek; 
chop  up  or  pound  fine  (the  meat),  and  mix  all 
well  together;  then  make  a  thin  crust,  with 
which  cover  the  sides  and  bottom  of  the  bake- 
pan;  then  put  in  the  meat  and  cover  it  with  a 
thicker  crust,  which  must  be  attached  firmly 
to  the  side  crust;  now  put  on  the  cover  of  your 
bake-pan  and  set  it  on  the  hot  coals,  heaping 
them  on  the  top,  and  bake  for  one  hour,  and  you 
will  have  a  delicious  dish. 

Another:  Make  a  thin  batter  and  drop 
small  balls  of  the  minced  meat  into  it  and  fry 
in  bear  or  coon  fat,  taking  care  that  the  meat 
is  well  covered  with  the  batter.  This  we  called 
"les  avingnol." 

From  the  ponds  we  gathered  the  seeds  of 
the  lotus,  which  we  used  for  coffee,  our  ever- 
filled  honey-trough  furnishing  the  sweetening. 
Our  supply  of  salt  and  pepper  was  rather 
limited,  and  these  were  used  only  on  special 
occasions. 

Thus  passed  the  winter.  When  at  home, 
chatting,  joking  and  playing  tricks  on  each 
other;  making  oars  and  paddles  to  replace  the 
worn  out  and  broken  ones,  and  getting  our- 
selves ready  for  the  spring's  departure. 
58 


<Durtion  J>alton£ftan  i^uIiBarti 

As  I  had  little  to  do  in  the  house  besides 
keeping  the  books  and  being  present  when 
sales  were  made  for  furs  or  on  credit,  and 
being  disgusted  with  the  disagreeable  and  filthy 
habits  of  my  master,  Beebeau,  I  fairly  lived  in 
the  open  air  with  my  two  comrades.  Our 
time  was  spent  in  the  manly  exercise  of  hunt- 
ing and  trapping,  on  foot  or  in  canoes,  and  as 
they  spoke  in  the  Indian  language  only,  they 
were  of  great  assistance  to  me  in  learning  it, 
which  I  accomplished  before  spring.  I  also 
became  proficient  in  hunting,  and  could  discern 
animal  tracks  on  the  ground  and  tell  what  kind 
they  were,  and  whether  they  were  walking  slow 
or  fast  or  running.  I  could  detect  the  marks 
on  the  trunks  of  trees  made  by  such  animals 
as  the  raccoon  or  panther,  if  they  had  made  it 
a  retreat  within  a  month  or  so.  My  com- 
panions had  many  laughs  and  jokes  at  my 
expense  for  my  awkwardness  in  hunting  and 
ignorance  in  tracking  animals,  but  I  faithfully 
persevered  in  my  education. 

My  clothing  during  this  winter  and  for  the 
subsequent  years  of  my  life  as  a  trader,  con- 
sisted of  a  buckskin  hunting  shirt  or  a  blue 
capote  belted  in  at  the  waist  with  a  sash  or 
buckskin  belt,  in  which  was  carried  a  knife  and 
sheath,  a  tomahawk,  and  a  tobacco  pouch  made 
of  the  skin  of  some  animal,  usually  otter  or 
mink.  In  the  pouch  was  carried  a  flint  and 
steel  and  piece  of  punk. 

Underneath  my  outside  garment  I  wore  a 

59 


€lje  ^utoBiograpljp  of 


calico  shirt,  breech-cloth,  and  buckskin  leggins. 
On  my  feet  neips*  and  moccasins,  and  some- 
times in  winter,  a  red  knit  cap  on  my  head. 
I  allowed  my  hair  to  grow  long  and  usually 
went  bareheaded.  When  traveling  in  winter 
I  carried,  and  sometimes  wore,  a  blanket. 

During  this  winter  I  made  two  trips  into  the 
interior:  One  to  the  mouth  of  Rock  River, 
where  I  first  saw  Black  Hawk,  and  for  the 
first  time  slept  in  an  Indian  wigwam.  The 
other  to  the  Wabash  River.  For  the  privilege 
of  going,  I  was  required  to  carry  a  pack  on 
my  back  of  fifty  pounds  weight,  the  men  with 
me  carrying  eighty  pounds.  These  packs 
contained  goods  to  exchange  for  furs  and  pel- 
tries. During  the  first  few  days  this  was  very 
severe,  and  I  often  wished  I  had  not  under- 
taken it,  but  by  the  time  I  returned,  I  was  able 
to  carry  my  pack  with  comparative  ease  and 
keep  up  with  the  others  in  walking. 

On  my  trip  to  the  Wabash  River  we  found 
a  band  of  Kick-a-poo  Indians  encamped  on 
Pine  Creek,  a  branch  of  the  Wabash,  and  one 
evening  quite  a  number  of  the  Indians  gathered 
into  the  trader's  wigwam  and  were  discussing 
the  subject  of  Harrison's  fight  at  Tippecanoe. 
A  number  of  these  Indians  had  participated  in 
the  battle,  and  twelve  of  them  had  been 
wounded.  As  I  could  not  understand  their 
language  sufficiently  well  to  converse,  I  em- 

*  Square  pieces  of  blanket  which  were  folded  over 
the  feet,  and  were  worn  in  place  of  stockings. 
60 


ployed  my  man  as  interpreter,  and  told  them 
that  from  what  I  had  read  in  books,  they  had 
deceived  General  Harrison,  pretending  to  be 
friendly  and  getting  him  to  camp  in  an  exposed 
situation  where  an  attacking  enemy  would 
have  great  advantages .  They  laughed  heartily, 
saying  that  the  contrary  was  the  truth.  He 
had  selected  the  strongest  natural  position  in 
all  that  country;  that  at  any  other  place  they 
could  have  conquered  him  and  but  few  could 
have  escaped.  In  consequence  of  his  strong 
position,  they  had  a  long  consultation  in  plan- 
ning the  attack.  I  was  so  much  interested  in 
what  I  heard  that  I  asked  to  go  to  the  battle 
ground  on  the  following  morning,  which  they 
agreed  to.  Accordingly,  the  next  morning  I 
was  furnished  with  a  pony,  and  accompanied 
by  two  or  three  of  them,  started  for  the  battle 
ground,  and  on  arriving  there  found  that  their 
report  was  correct,  and  was  much  surprised  at 
seeing  such  a  location. 

The  ground  was  admirably  adapted  to 
defense,  being  on  an  elevated  plateau.  On 
the  westerly  side  ran  Burnett  Creek,  the  bank 
of  which,  on  the  side  of  Harrison's  encamp- 
ment, was  very  steep,  while  on  the  opposite 
side  the  descent  was  gradual.  On  the  easterly 
side  was  a  prairie  swamp  skirting  the  plateau. 
Northerly  and  easterly  was  high  ground  and 
timber  land,  and  it  was  here  and  along  the 
creek  that  Harrison's  soldiers  made  the  attack. 
From  Harrison's  Report,  pp.  289-290,  it 
61 


€l)e  ^utoBiograpJp  of 


appears  that  General  Harrison  did  not  quite 
like  the  ground,  but  I  am  satisfied  that  no 
better  could  have  been  found  in  that  vicinity, 
and  in  that  opinion  I  am  sustained  by  General 
Tipton,  who  participated  in  the  battle,  and 
with  whom  I  afterwards  became  acquainted 
while  he  was  Indian  agent  at  Logansport, 
Ind. 

At  a  subsequent  date  I  again  visited  the 
locality  in  company  with  General  Tipton,  and 
he  pointed  out  to  me  the  positions  held  by 
the  contending  forces,  and  his  account  of  the 
battle  agreed  with  that  given  me  by  my  red 
friends.  The  general  and  myself  seated  our- 
selves under  a  tree,  on  the  bank  of  the  little 
creek  where  the  Kick-a-poos  made  their  attack, 
and  he  there  detailed  to  me  the  incidents  of 
the  march  and  fight.  With  a  small  stick  he 
mapped  out  on  the  ground  the  positions  held 
by  the  troops  and  Indians,  and,  playfully  dig- 
ging and  throwing  up  pebbles,  he  said:  "Near 
this  spot  a  friend  of  mine  had  his  jaw  shot  away; 
he  suffered  great  agony,  but  soon  died."  Just 
as  he  said  this  he  unearthed  some  teeth  which 
had  once  belonged  to  a  human  being.  He 
picked  them  up,  firmly  believing  them  to  be 
those  of  his  friend,  and  for  years  after  they 
occupied  a  place  in  his  cabinet  of  curiosities. 

Our    trip    proved    a    successful    one,   and 

having  sold  all  our  goods,  we  hired  ponies  to 

transport  our  furs  and  peltries  and  returned 

home,  where  I  was  warmly  welcomed  by  my 

62 


young  companions,  who  were  glad  to  have  me 
again  join  them  in  their  hunts.  A  day  sufficed 
to  decipher  Beebeau's  hieroglyphics,  extract 
from  memorandas  and  memory,  the  items  of 
accounts,  and  write  up  the  books,  and  I  dropped 
back  into  the  regular  routine  of  my  life.  I 
also  made  a  visit  to  our  trading  post  situated 
three  miles  below  Peoria,  which  was  in  charge 
of  old  Mr.  Beason.  Though  this  post  was 
sixty  miles  distant  we  reached  it  in  one  day's 
travel  by  starting  at  daylight  and  walking  until 
dark,  and  returned  after  a  visit  of  two  or  three 
days.  By  constant  practice  I  had  by  this  time 
become  a  good  walker  and  could  cover  forty 
to  fifty  miles  per  day  with  ease. 

Winter  passed  without  any  special  incident, 
and  early  in  March,  1819,  we  received  by  a 
carrier  orders  from  Mr.  Deschamps  to  have 
everything  in  complete  readiness  to  start  for 
Mackinaw  on  the  twentieth.  We  kept  track 
of  the  days  of  the  month  by  notches  cut  in  a 
stick,  which  hung  in  the  store,  having  no 
almanac  or  calendar,  and  indeed  I  was  the 
only  one  of  the  party  who  could  have  read  it 
if  we  had  possessed  one. 

Our  fare  had  consisted  during  the  winter  of 
a  variety  of  game,  such  as  venison,  raccoon, 
panther,  bear,  and  turkey,  varied  as  spring 
approached  with  swan,  geese  and  crane,  be- 
sides almost  every  variety  of  duck.  Prairie 
chickens  and  quail  were  also  abundant,  but 
these  we  did  not  consider  eatable.     Our  game 

63 


€J)e  ^ntotiiograjpl)p  of 


was  cooked  in  French  style,  and  to  our  mind, 
could  not  be  excelled  in  any  kitchen. 

We  had  received  in  the  fall  one  pound  of 
green  tea  and  a  bag  of  flour,  abant  a  hundred 
pounds,  and  while  this  lasted  we  luxuriated  on 
Sundays  in  pancakes  and  honey.  The  woods 
abounded  in  wild  honey,  and  we  kept  a  large 
wooden  bowl  full  at  all  times,  of  which  we  par- 
took whenever  we  desired. 

In  the  forenoon  of  the  20th  of  March,  we 
heard  in  the  distance  the  sound  of  the  familiar 
boat-song  and  recognized  the  rich  tones  of  Mr. 
Deschamps'  voice,  and  we  knew  the  "Brigade" 
was  coming.  We  all  ran  to  the  landing  and 
soon  saw  Mr.  Deschamps'  boat  rounding  the 
point  about  a  mile  below;  his  ensign  floating 
in  the  breeze.  We  shouted  with  joy  at  their 
arrival  and  gave  them  a  hearty  welcome. 

The  remainder  of  the  day  and  far  into  the 
night  was  spent  in  exchanging  friendly  greet- 
ings and  recounting  the  events  that  had  tran- 
spired since  our  parting.  Little  sleep  was 
had,  and  but  little  wanted.  Mr.  Deschamps 
had  flour  and  tobacco,  and  we  feasted  and 
smoked  and  talked  and  laughed,  and  a  happier 
party  cannot  well  be  imagined.  The  next  day 
we  spent  in  loading  our  boats,  and  the  day 
following  the  thirteen  boats  of  the  "Brigade" 
pushed  off  from  the  shore,  and,  to  the  music 
of  the  Canadian  boat-song,  we  started  on  our 
long  return  journey. 

The  first  night  we  halted  at  our  old  camp- 
64 


<«Burtion  J>alton^tan  i^ubBatti 

ground  at  the  foot  of  Starved  Rock.  From 
this  point  until  we  reached  Cache  Island,  our 
progress  was  very  slow,  averaging  but  from 
six  to  ten  miles  per  day.  The  river  was  high, 
the  current  swift,  and  the  rapids  strong,  and 
as  the  boats  were  heavily  laden  and  a  cold 
storm  prevailed,  we  were  glad  to  camp  early 
and  afford  the  men  a  much-needed  rest. 
Early  the  morning  following  we  left  Cache 
Island,  and  as  the  wind  was  strong  from  the 
southwest,  we  hoisted  our  square  sails  for  the 
first  time,  and  rapidly  passed  up  the  Desplaines 
River,  through  Mud  Lake,  to  South  Branch, 
regardless  of  the  course  of  the  channel,  and 
soon  reached  Chicago. 

We  camped  on  the  north  side  of  the  river, 
a  small  distance  above  Fort  Dearborn,  where 
we  remained  six  or  eight  days  repairing  our 
boats  and  putting  them  in  condition  for  the 
more  serious  journey  of  coasting  Lake  Michi- 
gan. 

Our  stay  in  Chicago  was  a  pleasant  one  to 
me.  The  same  officers  were  in  command  at 
the  fort  that  were  there  when  we  left  in  the 
fall,  and  warmly  greeted  us  on  our  return. 

Mr.  Kinzie  again  took  me  to  his  own  house, 
where  I  was  treated  as  one  of  the  family,  and 
I  formed  a  strong  attachment  for  these  good 
friends.  Seeing  Mrs.  Kinzie  again  brought 
my  mother  vividly  to  my  mind,  and  made  me 
all  the  more  anxious  to  hear  from  her  and  my 
father.     Since  parting  from  them  I  had  not 

65 


€lje  ^utoBiograjjfjp  of 


heard  from  either,  and  could  not  expect  to 
until  I  reached  Mackinaw. 

On  a  beautiful  morning  in  April,  about  the 
20th  or  25th,  we  left  Chicago  and  camped  at 
the  Grand  Calumet.  We  did  not  desire  to 
reach  the  mouth  of  Grand  River  (Grand 
Haven)  before  the  May  full  moon,  for  annually 
at  that  time  the  Indians  assembled  to  fast  and 
feast  their  dead,  the  ceremonies  occupying 
eight  or  ten  days.  A  noted  burying  ground  was 
selected  and  the  ground  around  the  graves 
thoroughly  cleaned,  they  being  put  in  the  best 
of  order.  Many  of  the  graves  were  marked 
by  small  poles,  to  which  were  attached  pieces 
of  white  cloth.  These  preparations  having 
been  completed,  all  except  the  young  children 
blackened  their  faces  with  charcoal  and  fasted 
for  two  whole  days,  eating  literally  nothing 
during  that  time.  Though  many  of  them  had 
no  relatives  buried  there,  all  joined  in  the  fast 
and  ceremonies  in  memory  of  their  dead  who 
were  buried  elsewhere,  and  the  sounds  of 
mourning  and  lamentation  were  heard  around 
the  graves  and  in  the  wigwams. 

At  the  close  of  the  two  days'  fast  they 
washed  their  faces,  put  on  their  decorations, 
and  commenced  feasting  and  visiting  from  one 
wigwam  to  another.  They  now  placed  wooden 
dishes  at  the  head  of  each  grave,  which  were 
kept  daily  supplied  with  food,  and  were  pro- 
tected from  the  dogs,  wolves,  and  other  animals, 
by  sticks  driven  into  the  ground  around  and 
66 


inclosing  them.  The  feasting  lasted  several 
days,  and  the  ceremonies  were  concluded  by 
their  celebrated  game  of  ball,  which  is  intensely 
interesting,  even  the  dogs  becoming  excited 
and  adding  to  the  commotion  by  mixing  with 
the  players  and  barking  and  racing  around  the 
grounds. 

We  progressed  leisurely  to  the  mouth  of 
the  St.  Joseph  River,  where  we  encamped  for 
several  days,  and  were  joined  by  the  traders 
from  that  river.  We  reached  Grand  River 
early  in  May,  and  sought  a  good  camping  place 
up  the  river,  some  distance  from  the  Indian 
camps.  The  "Feast  of  the  Dead"  had  com- 
menced, and  many  Indians  had  already  arrived, 
and  for  five  or  six  days  we  were  witnesses  to 
their  strange  yet  solemn  ceremonies. 

One  evening,  at  the  close  of  the  feast,  we 
were  informed  that  an  Indian,  who  the  fall 
previous,  in  a  drunken  quarrel,  had  killed  one 
of  the  sons  of  a  chief  of  the  Manistee  band, 
would  on  the  morrow  deliver  himself  up  to 
suffer  the  penalty  of  his  crime  according  to  the 
Indian  custom.  We  gave  but  little  credence 
to4he  rumor,  though  the  Indians  seemed  much 
excited  over  it.  On  the  following  day,  how- 
ever, the  rumor  proved  true,  and  I  witnessed  the 
grandest  and  most  thriUing  incident  of  my  life. 

The  murderer  was  a  Canadian  Indian,  and 

had  no  blood  relatives  among  the  Manistees, 

but  had  by  invitation,  returned  with  some  of 

the  tribe  from  Maiden,  where  they  received 

67 


€l>e  ^utobio0rap|)p  of 


their  annuities  from  the  English  Government, 
and  falling  in  love  with  a  Manistee  maiden, 
had  married  her  and  settled  among  them, 
agreeing  to  become  one  of  their  tribe.  As  was 
customary,  all  his  earnings  from  hunting  and 
trapping  belonged  to  his  father-in-law  until 
the  birth  of  his  first  child,  after  which  he 
commanded  his  time  and  could  use  his  gains 
for  the  benefit  of  his  family.  At  the  time  of 
the  killing  of  the  chief's  son  he  had  several 
children  and  was  very  poor,  possessing  nothing 
but  his  meagre  wearing  apparel  and  a  few  traps. 
He  was  a  fair  hunter,  but  more  proficient  as  a 
trapper. 

Knowing  that  his  life  would  be  taken 
unless  he  could  ransom  it  with  furs  and  articles 
of  value,  after  consulting  with  his  wife,  he 
determined  to  depart  at  night  in  a  canoe  with 
his  family  and  secretly  make  his  way  to  the 
marshes  at  the  headwaters  of  the  Muskegon 
River,  where  he  had  before  trapped  success- 
fully, and  there  endeavor  to  catch  beaver,  mink, 
marten,  and  other  fine  furs,  which  were  usually 
abundant,  and  return  in  the  spring  and  satisfy 
the  demands  of  the  chief.  As,  according  to  the 
custom,  if  he  failed  to  satisfy  the  chief  and 
family  of  the  murdered  man,  either  by  ransom 
or  a  sacrifice  of  his  own  life,  they  could  demand 
of  his  wife's  brothers  what  he  had  failed  to  give, 
he  consulted  with  one  of  them  and  told  him  of 
his  purpose,  and  designated  a  particular  loca- 
tion on  the  Muskegon  where  he  could  be  found 
68 


<«BiurDon  J>aftcm^tan  Ipuliliarti 

if  it  became  necessary  for  him  to  return  and 
deliver  himself  up.  Having  completed  his 
arrangements,  he  made  his  escape  and  arrived 
safely  at  the  place  of  destination,  and  having 
but  few  traps  and  but  a  small  supply  of  ammu- 
nition, he  arranged  dead-fall  traps  in  a  circuit 
around  his  camp,  hoping  with  them  and  his 
few  traps  to  have  a  successful  winter,  and  by 
spring  to  secure  enough  to  save  his  life. 

After  the  burial  of  his  son,  the  chief  took 
counsel  with  his  sons  as  to  what  they  should 
do  to  revenge  the  dead,  and  as  they  knew  the 
murderer  was  too  poor  to  pay  their  demands, 
they  determined  upon  his  death,  and  set  about 
finding  him.  Being  disappointed  in  this,  they 
made  a  demand  upon  the  brothers  of  his  wife, 
who,  knowing  that  they  could  not  satisfy  his 
claims,  counselled  together  as  to  what  course 
to  pursue,  all  but  one  of  them  believing  he  had 
fled  to  Canada. 

The  younger  brother,  knowing  his  where- 
abouts, sent  word  to  the  chief  that  he  would 
go  in  search  of  the  murderer,  and  if  he  failed 
to  produce  him  would  himself  give  his  own 
life  in  his  stead.  This  being  acceptable,  with- 
out divulging  the  secret  of  his  brother-in-law's 
hiding  place,  he  started  to  find  him.  It  was  a 
long  and  difficult  journey,  as  he  had  no  land- 
marks to  go  by  and  only  knew  that  he  should 
find  his  brother-in-law  on  the  headwaters  of 
the  Muskegon,  which  he  finally  did. 

The  winter  had  been  one  of  unusually  deep 
69 


€&e  ^utoBiograi^Jl^p  of 


snow,  and  the  spring  one  of  great  JBioods, 
which  had  inundated  the  country  where  he  was. 
The  bears  had  kept  in  their  dens,  and  for  some 
reason  the  marten,  beavers,  and  mink  had  not 
been  found,  so  that  when  their  brother-in-law 
reached  them  he  and  his  family  were  almost 
perishing  from  starvation,  and  his  winter's 
hunt  had  proved  unsuccessful.  They  accord- 
ingly descended  together  to  the  main  river, 
where  the  brother  left  them  for  his  return  home, 
it  being  agreed  between  them  that  the  murderer 
would  himself  report  at  the  mouth  of  Grand 
River  during  the  "Feast  of  the  Dead,"  which 
promise  he  faithfully  performed. 

Soon  after  sunrise  the  news  spread  through 
the  camp  that  he  was  coming.  The  chief 
hastily  selected  a  spot  in  a  valley  between  the 
sand-hills,  in  which  he  placed  himself  and 
family  in  readiness  to  receive  him,  while  we 
traders,  together  with  the  Indians,  sought  the 
surrounding  sand-hills,  that  we  might  have  a 
good  opportunity  to  witness  all  that  should 
occur.  Presently  we  heard  the  monotonous 
thump  of  the  Indian  drum,  and  soon  thereafter 
the  mournful  voice  of  the  Indian,  chanting  his 
own  death  song,  and  then  we  beheld  him, 
marching  with  his  wife  and  children,  slowly 
and  in  single  file,  to  the  place  selected  for  his 
execution,  still  singing  and  beating  the  drum. 

When  he  reached  a  spot  near  where  sat  the 
chief,  he  placed  the  drum  on  the  ground,  and 
his  wife  and  children  seated  themselves  on 
70 


<<5urtion  J^alton^eftall  i^ufibarti 

mats  which  had  been  prepared  for  them.  He 
then  addressed  the  chief,  saying:  "I,  in  a 
drunken  moment,  stabbed  your  son,  being 
provoked  to  it  by  his  accusing  me  of  being  a 
coward  and  calling  me  an  old  woman.  I  fled 
to  the  marshes  at  the  head  of  the  Muskegon, 
hoping  that  the  Great  Spirit  would  favor  me 
in  the  hunt,  so  that  I  could  pay  you  for  your 
lost  son.  I  was  not  successful.  Here  is  the 
knife  with  which  I  killed  your  son;  by  it  I 
wish  to  die.  Save  my  wife  and  children. 
I  am  done."  The  chief  received  the  knife, 
and,  handing  it  to  his  oldest  son,  said,  "Kill 
him."  The  son  advanced,  and,  placing  his 
left  hand  upon  the  shoulder  of  his  victim, 
made  two  or  three  feints  with  the  knife  and 
then  plunged  it  into  his  breast  to  the  handle 
and  immediately  withdrew  it. 

Not  a  murmur  was  heard  from  the  Indian 
or  his  wife  and  children.  Not  a  word  was 
spoken  by  those  assembled  to  witness.  All 
nature  was  silent,  broken  only  by  the  singing 
of  the  birds.  Every  eye  was  turned  upon  the 
victim,  who  stood  motionless  with  his  eyes 
firmly  fixed  upon  his  executioner,  and  calmly 
received  the  blow  without  the  appearance  of 
the  slightest  tremor.  For  a  few  moments  he 
stood  erect,  the  blood  gushing  from  the  wound 
at  every  pulsation;  then  his  knees  began  to 
quake;  his  eyes  and  face  assumed  an  expression 
of  death,  and  he  sank  upon  the  sand. 

During  all  this  time  the  wife  and  children 
71 


€f)e  ^ntoBiograpfjp  of 


sat  perfectly  motionless,  gazing  upon  the  hus- 
band and  father.  Not  a  sigh  or  a  murmur 
escaping  their  lips  until  Ufe  was  extinct,  when 
they  threw  themselves  upon  his  dead  body, 
lying  in  a  pool  of  blood,  in  grief  and  lamen- 
tations, bringing  tears  to  the  eyes  of  the  traders, 
and  causing  a  murmur  of  sympathy  to  run 
through  the  multitude  of  Indians. 

Turning  to  Mr.  Deschamps,  down  whose 
cheeks  the  tears  were  trickhng,  I  said:  "Why 
did  you  not  save  that  noble  Indian.  A  few 
blankets  and  shirts,  and  a  little  cloth,  would 
have  done  it."  "Oh,  my  boy,"  he  repHed, 
"we  should  have  done  it.  It  was  wrong  and 
thoughtless  in  us.  What  a  scene  we  have 
witnessed." 

Still  the  widowed  wife  and  her  children  were 
clinging  to  the  dead  body  in  useless  tears  and 
grief.  The  chief  and  his  family  sat  motionless 
for  fifteen  or  twenty  minutes,  evidently  regret- 
ting what  had  been  done.  Then  he  arose, 
approached  the  body,  and  in  a  trembling  voice 
said:  "Woman  stop  weeping.  Your  husband 
was  a  brave  man,  and  like  a  brave,  was  not 
afraid  to  die  as  the  rules  of  our  nation  demanded. 
We  adopt  you  and  your  children  in  the  place  of 
my  son;  our  lodges  are  open  to  you;  live  with 
any  of  us;  we  will  treat  you  like  our  own  sons 
and  daughters;  you  shall  have  our  protection 
and  love. "  "  Che-qui-ock  * '  (that  is  right)  was 
heard  from  the  assembled  Indians,  and  the 
tragedy  was  ended. 

72 


That  scene  is  indelibly  stamped  on  my  mind, 
never  to  be  forgotten. 

After  the  conclusion  of  the  feast,  we  left  in 
company  with  a  large  fleet  of  birch-bark  ca- 
noes, occupied  by  Indians  and  their  families, 
returning  from  their  winter  hunting  grounds  to 
their  villages  on  the  shore  of  Lake  Michigan. 
A  fair  wind  at  starting  increased  to  a  gale  in 
the  after  part  of  the  day,  and  caused  a  high 
sea.  We  reached  the  Manistee  River,  which 
had  a  strong  current,  in  entering  which,  we 
experienced  much  trouble  from  the  breakers, 
and  some  of  the  boats  shipped  considerable 
water,  but  we  all  landed  in  safety.  The  In- 
dians, however,  were  not  so  fortunate,  some 
of  their  canoes  being  swamped,  and  several  of 
the  women  and  children  drowned.  No  assist- 
ance could  be  rendered  them,  though  a  num- 
ber of  the  children,  who  were  lashed  to  bundles 
of  Indian  mats,  were  saved;  the  Indians  and 
squaws  swimming  and  holding  to  the  mats, 
and  thus  keeping  them  from  turning  over. 
Others  were  saved  by  the  canoes  that  followed, 
and  passed  safely  in. 

We  reached  Mackinaw  without  further  inci- 
dent about  the  middle  of  May,  being  among 
the  first  to  arrive  from  the  Indian  country. 
Other  "outfits"  followed  shortly  after,  the 
last  to  arrive  being  from  the  Lake  of  the 
Woods. 

I  found  letters  from  my  mother  awaiting 
me,  one  of  which  announced  the  death  of  my 

73 


€{je  SlutoBiograpJ)p  of 


father,  which  occurred  soon  after  he  reached 
Arkansas.  He  was  taken  sick  while  on  the 
circuit.  Having  been  but  a  short  time  in  the 
Territory,  he  had  formed  but  fewacquaintances, 
and  those  mostly  lawyers.  My  little  brother, 
Christopher,  thus  suddenly  left,  was  kindly 
cared  for  by  R.  P.  Spalding,  Esq.,  an  attorney 
of  the  Territory,  whose  father  resided  in  Nor- 
wich, Conn.,  and  in  the  following  winter  his 
kind  protector  took  him  to  Middletown,  Conn., 
where  he  found  friends  and  relatives. 

My  mother  had  left  Montreal  and  returned 
to  New  England,  and  had  with  her,  her  young- 
est daughter,  Hannah,  while  my  other  sisters 
had  been  placed  at  school,  one  in  Windsor, 
Vt.,  and  the  others  in  New  London,  Conn.; 
thus  were  those  most  dear  to  me,  and  to  each 
other,  cast  upon  the  world  without  home  or 
protector.  This  news  made  me  very  sad, 
and  I  determined  to  return  and  care  for  my 
mother  and  family,  and  accordingly  tendered 
my  resignation,  which  the  Company  refused 
to  accept. 

After  a  few  days'  sojourn  I  was  detailed 
under  Mr.  Matthews  to  receive  and  help  count 
the  furs  brought  in  by  the  different  outfits, 
put  them  into  packs,  and  get  them  in  readi- 
ness for  shipment  to  New  York,  whither  they 
were  to  go  in  a  vessel  chartered  at  Buffalo  for 
that  purpose.  This  packing  furs  was  very 
hard  work,  and  about  one  hundred  men  were 
detailed  to  assist  in  it.  Each  skin  must  be 
74 


oBurtion  J>alton^tan  J^irfifiatD 

beaten  to  remove  the  dust  and  any  moths  that 
might  be  in  it.  The  different  qualities  were 
then  carefully  selected,  and  each  packed  into  a 
frame,  which  was  put  under  a  press  made  of 
strong  upright  planks,  on  each  side  of  which 
were  four-inch  openings,  and  in  these  were 
placed  oak  scantling,  which  filled  the  space 
between  the  top  of  the  pack  and  the  head  of  the 
frame.  Wedges  were  then  introduced  between 
the  scantling  and  these  driven  in  by  wooden 
mauls,  as  heavy  as  one  man  could  wield,  until  the 
furs  would  compress  no  further,  when  the  pack 
was  firmly  tied  at  ends  and  centre  with  rawhide 
ropes.  A  stave  was  attached  to  each  pack, 
under  the  ropes,  upon  which  was  marked  the 
number.  The  number,  quality  and  kind  of 
skins  were  then  correctly  invoiced.  Work 
commenced  at  five  o'clock  in  the  morning  and 
lasted  until  sunset,  with  an  intermission  of  one 
hour  at  noon.  My  duties  did  not,  however, 
end  with  sunset.  I  had  to  lock  up  before  I 
went  to  my  supper,  and  after  to  write  up  the 
accounts  of  the  day,  which  often  took  until 
midnight.  This  was  the  commencement  for 
me  of  real  hard  work,  and  lasted  five  or  six 
weeks. 

Robert  Stewart  had  charge  of  the  outside 
work,  while  Mr.  Crooks  was  the  general  di- 
rector of  the  affairs  of  the  Company.  These 
two  gentlemen  were  wholly  unlike  in  character. 
Mr.  Crooks  was  a  mild  man,  rarely  out  of  tem- 
per, and  governed  more  by  quiet  reasoning  and 

75 


€^t  ^utobtograpljp  of 


mild  command  than  by  dictation.  Mr.  Stew- 
art was  one  of  those  stern  Scotchmen,  who 
gave  his  orders  abruptly  and  expected  them 
obeyed  to  the  letter,  yet  a  man  of  a  deal  of 
humor  and  fond  of  fun.  He  had  a  fund  of 
anecdotes  and  was  excellent  company.  Though 
he  often  gave  unnecessary  orders  and  required 
everything  to  be  done  neatly  and  promptly,  he 
was  kind  and  sympathetic.  He  was  quick 
tempered  and  wholly  fearless,  and  the  clerks 
knew  that  his  commands  were  to  be  obeyed 
to  the  letter,  but  that  if  their  duties  were 
properly  performed  they  would  receive  full 
credit  and  be  treated  with  kindness  and  con- 
sideration. 

At  one  time,  when  he  had  sent  men  to  Bois 
Blanc  Island  to  cut  the  year's  supply  of  wood, 
he  learned  that  some  of  them  had  returned, 
and  suspected  that  they  had  been  sent  for 
whisky.  He  accordingly  caused  them  to  be 
watched  until  his  suspicions  were  confirmed. 
When  they  were  about  to  push  off  for  their 
return  he  suddenly  appeared,  expressing  great 
surprise  to  see  them.  "What  is  the  matter," 
said  he;  "have  you  met  with  an  accident;  are 
any  of  you  sick,  or  what  are  you  here  for?" 
The  bowman  replied  that  they  came  over  to 
see  some  friends  and  get  tobacco,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  push  the  boat  off.  Mr.  Stewart 
rushed  into  the  water  and  seized  the  boat  by 
its  bow;  two  of  the  men  persisted  in  pushing 
it  off,  but  he  succeeded  in  pulling  the  boat 
76 


<6uttion  ^alton^tan  I^ubtiatti 

ashore,  and  ordered  the  two  men  up  into  the 
yard.  Closing  the  gate,  he  told  them  they 
were  to  be  punished,  and  they,  being  very 
angry,  used  insulting  language,  which  threw 
him  into  a  towering  rage.  Seizing  a  stick  he 
knocked  them  both  down,  nearly  killing  one  of 
them.  Dr.  Beaumont,  the  surgeon  of  the  fort, 
was  sent  for,  who  examined  the  man,  and  pro- 
nounced his  skull  fractured  and  the  result 
doubtful.  Mr.  Stewart  was  in  great  distress 
and  himself  cared  for  the  man  through  the 
night,  and  was  much  reheved  in  his  mind  when 
the  doctor  told  him  in  the  morning  that  he 
thought  the  man  would  live,  though  a  slight 
increase  in  the  force  of  the  blow  would  cer- 
tainly have  killed  him. 

This  Mr.  Stewart  was  the  same  man  de- 
scribed by  Mr.  Irving  in  his  "Astoria,"  as 
having  compelled  the  captain  of  the  ship  in 
which  he  was  sailing  to  tack  ship  and  return 
to  an  island  for  his  uncle,  who  had  gone  ashore 
while  the  vessel  was  becalmed  and  had  acci- 
dentally been  left  there. 

My  good  friend,  John  H.  Kinzie,  resided  in 
Mr.  Stewart's  family,  and  though  much  loved 
and  respected,  was  often  the  victim  of  his 
temper  or  humor.  On  one  occasion,  when  he 
had  finished  making  out  a  long  invoice,  which 
he  had  taken  unusual  care  to  write  nicely  and 
in  commercial  shape,  and  supposed  he  would 
be  highly  complimented  on  its  production, 
delivered  it  to  Mr.  Stewart,  who  carefully 
77 


€I)e  ^utobiograpljp  of 


looked  it  over,  sheet  after  sheet,  and  on  the 
very  last  page  discovered  a  blot  and  a  figure 
erased  and  rewritten.  Pointing  to  them  with 
a  scowl,  he  said,  "Do  you  call  this  well  done? 
Go  and  do  it  over ' ' ;  and  he  tore  it  into  frag- 
ments. Poor  John  was  sorely  mortified,  but 
was  consoled  by  Mrs.  Stewart,  who  had  been 
instructed  to  do  so  by  her  husband,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  rewrite  his  invoice,  satisfied  either 
of  his  own  imperfections,  or  of  the  disagree- 
able temper  of  his  master. 

At  another  time,  an  old  voyageur  who  per- 
formed the  duties  of  a  house-servant  for  Mr. 
Stewart,  complained  to  him  that  John  was 
impertinent  to  him,  ordering  him  to  do  things 
instead  of  politely  asking  him  to,  and  said  that 
at  times  he  was  tempted  to  strike  him.  "You 
are  right,  old  man,"  said  Mr.  Stewart.  "The 
boy  is  foolish;  he  should  always  treat  an  old 
man  with  respect;  give  him  a  good  thrashing 
the  next  time  he  insults  you;  if  you  do  not  I 
shall  have  to.  Can  you  whip  him  in  a  fair 
fight?"  " Yes,  sir, "  was  the  reply .  "Then 
do  so;  but  be  sure  you  strike  him  with  nothing 
but  your  fist."  When  John  came  to  dinner 
he  told  him  to  order  the  old  man  to  shovel  the 
snow  from  a  little  yard  in  front  of  Mrs. 
Stewart's  window.  ' '  Make  him  do  it  at  once, 
and  stand  over  him  until  it  is  done."  The  old 
man  was  busy  sawing  wood  in  a  shed  when 
John  started  to  give  him  orders.  As  soon  as 
John  was  out  of  the  way,  Mr.  Stewart  slipped 
78 


into  another  room  to  a  window  to  see  the  fun. 
John  approached  the  old  man,  saying,  "Old 
man,  you  have  wood  enough  sawed;  get  the 
snow-shovel  and  clean  away  the  snow  from 
the  little  yard."  The  old  man  made  no  reply, 
but  placed  his  thumb  to  his  nose  and  made  an 
expressive  movement  with  his  fingers.  "Did 
you  hear  me?"  "Yes."  "Why  don't  you 
mind?"  "None  of  your  business;  you  wait 
till  I  get  ready,"  "Ready  or  not,  you  have 
got  to  clean  away  the  snow  right  off."  "Who 
will  make  me?  "  "I,"  said  John,  and,  advanc- 
ing, rather  unceremoniously  put  his  hand  on 
the  old  man's  shoulder,  who  resented  by  a 
blow  on  the  nose  that  started  the  blood.  They 
fought  for  some  time,  to  the  great  enjoyment 
of  Mr.  Stewart,  and  the  lesson  was  not  wholly 
lost  either  on  John  or  the  other  clerks. 

One  evening  when  a  number  of  clerks  were 
sitting  on  the  stoop  just  after  tea,  Jean  Bap- 
tiste  Beaubien  came  along  boasting  of  his  fast 
running.  Mr.  Stewart  had  slipped  up  behind 
us  unperceived  and  heard  Beaubien's  boasting, 
and  said  I  can  beat  you  in  a  race  from  the 
store  to  the  cooper  shop  (about  the  distance 
of  a  block).  "No,  you  can't,"  said  Beau- 
bien. "I  will  bet  you  a  boot  I  can,"  said 
Stewart.  "Done;  come  on,"  said  Beaubien. 
So  they  took  their  stations  and  started.  Mr. 
Stewart  stopped  about  half-way,  with  Beaubien 
about  a  rod  ahead;  and,  coming  to  the  plat- 
form, said,  "I'll  pay  the  boot;   but  what  will 

79 


€Jje  ^iitoiiio0rapl)p  of 


you  do  with  only  one  boot?"  Beaubien  in- 
sisted that  he  was  to  have  a  pair,  but  on  refer- 
ring the  matter  to  the  parties,  they  decided 
the  bet  was  for  one  only.  "Now,"  said  Mr. 
Stewart,  "we  will  flip  up  a  dollar  to  see 
whether  it  shall  be  a  pair  or  none.  Here  is  a 
dollar.  Now,  sir;  heads  I  win,  tails  you  lose. 
Three  flips?"  "Yes."  It  was  heads.  "Oh, 
heads  I  win."  Next  time  it  turns  tails.  "Oh, 
tails  you  lose."  "Yes,  yes,"  says  Beaubien. 
Throws  again,  and  this  time  heads.  "Heads 
I  win,  Mr.  Beaubien."  "How  the  d — 1;  I 
lose  the  head,  I  lose  the  tail;  by  gar,  you 
make  me  lose  all  the  time";  and,  amid  a  roar 
of  laughter,  Mr.  Stewart  made  his  exit. 

This  Beaubien  had  some  education,  could 
read  and  write,  and  was  very  proud  of  his 
accomplishments.  Coming  into  the  office  one 
morning,  about  daylight,  he  said  to  the  book- 
keeper, "Mr.  Bookkeeper,  I  write  very  fine, 
and  I  make  pretty  figures."  "Is  that  so? 
Well,  help  me  a  little;  put  down  on  that  paper, 
one;  now  put  down  two;  there,  that's  all; 
now  add  them  together."  After  some  reflec- 
tion he  announced  the  result  as  three. 
"Now,"  said  the  bookkeeper,  "put  down 
two;  now  one;  add  them  together."  After 
pondering  over  it  for  a  time  Beaubien  looked 
up  with  a  radiant  countenance  and  exclaimed, 
"By  gar  he  all  make  three,"  and  went  off" 
profoundly  impressed  with  his  own  learning  and 
proficiency  in  mathematics. 
80 


<«Burtion  ^alton^taH  J^uBIiatti 

FISHING  IN  MUSKEGON  LAKE.— A  MONTH 
OF  SOLITUDE.— LOST  IN  A  SNOW 
STORM.— DEATH    OF   DUFRAIN. 

I  supposed  I  should  be  again  detailed  to  the 
Illinois  river  "brigade"  with  my  old  leader, 
Mr.  Deschamps,  and  was  much  surprised  and 
grieved,  when  the  time  arrived  to  select  goods 
and  make  ready  for  our  departure,  to  receive 
one  evening  a  summons  from  Mr.  Crooks  to 
meet  him  at  his  private  office,  when  I  was 
informed  that  I  was  not  to  go  to  my  old  post, 
but,  in  company  with  a  Frenchman  named 
Jacques  Dufrain,  take  charge  of  an  outfit  on 
the  Muskegon  River.  Dufrain  could  neither 
read  nor  write,  but  had  a  large  experience  among 
the  Indians  on  the  Peninsula  of  Michigan,  and 
I  was  to  be  governed  by  his  advice  in  trading. 

I  was  told  that  the  invoices  would  be  directed 
to  me,  and  that  I  was  to  be  the  commander  of 
the  expedition,  and  Dufrain  simply  my  adviser, 
and  then  I  was  not  to  allow  his  advice  to 
govern  me  when  it  differed  materially  with  my 
own  views.  Mr.  Crooks  also  told  me  that 
though  I  was  young  and  inexperienced,  he  was 
confident  that  with  Dufrain 's  honesty  and 
acquaintance  with  the  Indians,  I  would  have  no 
difficulty  in  conducting  the  venture;  the  outfit 
would  be  small,  and  we  were  to  go  in  Mr.  Des- 
champs' "brigade"  to  the  mouth  of  the  Mus- 
kegon or  not,  as  we  chose.  Our  headquarters 
were  to  be  some  sixty  miles  up  the  river. 
8i 


€|je  autoBio0rapl)p  of 


This  was,  indeed,  a  bitter  disappointment  to 
me,  as  I  had  counted  very  much  on  seeing 
Mr.  Kinzie's  family,  for  whom  I  had  formed  a 
great  attachment,  and  had  hoped  for  Mr.  Des- 
champs'  permission  to  spend  two  or  three  weeks 
with  them  and  the  officers  of  Fort  Dearborn, 
and  then  go  alone  and  join  my  companions  at 
Beaureau  trading  house.  And  besides,  I  had 
left  some  of  my  clothing  at  Mr.  Kinzie's  to  be 
repaired  and  put  in  order  by  my  return.  But 
as  there  was  no  other  alternative,  I  received 
my  goods  with  a  good  grace,  and  about  the 
middle  of  October,  1819,  started  with  the  Illi- 
nois "brigade"  on  my  second  trip  to  the  Indian 
country. 

We  camped  the  first  night  at  Point  Wagash- 
vic  and  there  remained  wind-bound  for  the 
space  of  a  week,  and  soon  thereafter  reached 
the  Little  Traverse.  Here  Mr.  Deschamps 
advised  me  to  stop  and  purchase  my  canoe  and 
some  Indian  corn.  About  ten  miles  distant, 
at  the  foot  of  the  bay,  was  an  Indian  village, 
and  thither  I  sent  my  associate  to  make  the 
necessary  purchases;  and  after  an  absence  of 
two  days  he  returned  with  a  canoe  loaded  with 
Indians,  and  about  eight  bushels  of  corn  and 
some  beans  for  our  winter's  stores.  It  was  a 
small  supply,  but  all  we  could  get,  and  having 
paid  for  it  we  got  ready  to  leave  on  the  follow- 
ing morning. 

When  morning  came  we  found  the  wind 
blowing  strong  from  the  northeast,  afterwards 
82 


changing  to  northwest  and  west,  and  for  ten 
days  blowing  a  gale  so  that  November  had 
come  before  we  had  started.  We  left  before 
the  heavy  sea  had  subsided,  and  with  great 
labor  (there  being  but  three  men  to  row  the 
boat)  reached  Grand  Traverse,  where  we  were 
again  detained  five  or  six  days  by  adverse 
winds;  another  start,  more  heavy  sea,  and  Calp 
River  was  reached,  where  we  were  again  wind- 
bound  for  several  days. 

Thus,  with  a  heavily  laden  canoe  and  adverse 
winds,  often  in  great  peril,  sometimes  shipping 
water  and  narrowly  escaping  wreck,  suffering 
from  cold,  and  worn  with  toil,  we  entered  the 
Muskegon  River  about  the  tenth  of  December 
and  found  the  lake  frozen.  The  weather  was 
very  cold,  and  the  coast  Indians  had  all  left  for 
their  hunting  grounds  in  the  interior. 

Dufrain  said  it  would  be  impossible  to  reach 
our  destination,  and  recommended  the  repair- 
ing of  an  old  abandoned  trading  house  at  a 
point  of  the  lake  about  one  and  one  half  miles 
distant  and  there  make  our  winter  quarters. 
This  we  decided  to  do,  though  it  would  be  very 
inconvenient,  being  from  thirty  to  fifty  miles 
distant  from  the  Indian  hunting  grounds,  where 
we  should  be  compelled  to  go  to  trade.  By 
breaking  ice  ahead  of  our  boat  we  reached  the 
place,  and  went  industriously  to  work  to  repair 
the  house  and  make  it  tenantable. 

We  had  not  seen  an  Indian  for  fifteen  or 
twenty  days,  and  as  it  was  necessary  to  reach 

83 


€6e  ^utoBiograplip  of 


them,  and  let  them  know  where  we  had  located, 
we  decided  to  send  an  expedition  in  search  of 
them  at  once.  Accordingly  we  made  up  an 
assortment  of  goods  into  three  packages  of 
about  sixty  pounds  each,  which,  with  a  blanket 
apiece,  were  to  be  carried  by  Jacques  and  the 
two  voyageurs  who  constituted  our  force;  and 
on  a  bright  December  morning  they  bade  me 
good-bye  and  started  on  their  journey. 

As  Jacques  was  perfectly  familiar  with  the 
country,  I  did  not  look  forward  to  a  long  ab- 
sence, and  was  content  to  remain  alone.  My 
stock  of  provisions  consisted  of  the  corn  and  a 
small  quantity  of  flour,  which  we  had  brought 
from  Mackinaw,  and  as  I  had  my  gun  to  depend 
on  I  thought  I  should  have  no  difficulty  in  pro- 
curing all  the  meat  I  desired. 

Dufrain  had  told  me  that  I  should  find  no 
game,  but  this  I  did  not  believe.  I  confined 
my  hunting  trips  to  a  mile  or  so  of  the  house, 
never  daring  to  go  out  of  sight  of  it,  and  for  a 
week  found  rabbits  and  squirrels  in  sufficient 
numbers  to  supply  me  with  food.  Then  came 
a  heavy  fall  of  snow  and  for  several  days  I  could 
find  nothing  to  shoot,  and  as  the  work  of  walk- 
ing in  two  feet  of  snow  was  very  laborious  and 
I  expected  Dufrain  to  return  very  soon,  I  con- 
cluded to  remain  indoors,  keep  up  a  good  fire, 
and  content  myself  with  corn.  I  had,  I  think, 
three  books,  which  helped  me  to  while  away 
the  time. 

We  had  found  in  the  lake  a  drowned  deer 
84 


<Durtion  ^alton^tal!  ipubBarti 

which  we  had  skinned,  and  this  skin  dried  fur- 
nished me  with  a  mat  upon  which  to  lie  in 
front  of  the  fire.  The  fireplace  was  broad, 
some  three  or  four  feet,  and  very  deep,  and  so 
took  in  large  logs  that  made  a  warm,  cheerful 
fire.  The  timber  under  the  hill,  around  the 
house,  had  all  been  cut  off  by  its  former  occu- 
pants, and  procuring  wood  was  a  serious 
problem.  Through  the  deep  snow  from  the 
top  of  the  hill  I  was  obliged  to  carry  it,  and 
for  days  I  labored  all  the  morning  in  getting 
my  day's  supply  of  fuel.  The  snow  being  so 
deep  I  could  not  haul  or  roll  it  down  the  hill,  I 
set  about  devising  some  way  to  overcome  the 
difficulty,  and  the  idea  of  using  the  deer  skin  in 
some  way  for  a  sled  presented  itself  to  my  mind. 
As  it  was  not  long  enough  to  take  on  the  four- 
foot  logs  I  cut  them  three  feet  only,  and 
having  soaked  the  skin  to  make  it  pliable,  I 
laid  a  log  on  it,  and  tied  up  the  sides  of  the 
skin  around  it  with  a  grape  vine,  and  found  I 
had  a  pretty  fair  sled.  My  down-hill  path  soon 
became  hard  and  smooth,  and  extended  to  the 
door  of  the  house,  and  my  load  would  fre- 
quently slide  down  to  the  bottom  with  me 
astride  of  it. 

In  a  Book  of  Travels  in  the  Northwest, 
which  I  had  read,  the  author  described  the 
manner  in  which  some  tribes  of  Indians  caught 
large  fish  during  the  winter.  A  hole  was  cut 
in  the  ice,  over  which  a  small  shelter  was  built 
sufficiently  large  for  one  person  to  sit  in,  and 

85 


€fje  ^utoIiiogra})]Jp  of 


made  as  dark  as  possible.  The  occupant  then 
stationed  himself  with  a  spear  in  his  left  hand 
and  a  small  wooden  fish  attached  to  a  string  in 
his  right;  the  imitation  fish  being  jerked  up 
and  down  in  the  water  attracted  the  larger 
ones,  and  they  were  easily  speared. 

I  thought  that  what  an  Indian  could  do  in 
that  line,  I  could,  and  set  about  making  my 
preparations.  I  whittled  out  a  stick  into  the 
shape  of  a  fish,  shaping  it  as  artistically  as  I 
could,  and  colored  it  by  searing  with  a  hot 
iron.  In  an  excavation  made  for  the  purpose 
I  poured  melted  lead  to  sink  it,  and  after  hav- 
ing placed  in  the  head  beads  for  eyes  I  had  quite 
a  natural  looking  fish,  about  four  inches  in 
length.  Placing  my  spear  head  on  a  handle, 
I  marched  with  them  to  the  middle  of  Muske- 
gon Lake,  cut  a  hole  in  the  ice,  and  erected 
a  shelter  by  sticking  poles  in  the  ice  and 
stretching  a  blanket  over  them.  Everything 
being  in  readiness,  I  crawled  into  the  hut,  and 
lying  flat  on  the  ice  dropped  my  "little  pet" — 
as  I  called  my  little  fish — and  anxiously  awaited 
the  result.  I  was  soon  gratified  by  the  appear- 
ance of  a  large  fish  that  made  a  dart  at  my 
decoy.  I  hurled  my  spear  at  him,  and — missed. 
And  thus  every  few  minutes  for  more  than 
two  hours  I  repeated  the  operation  with  the 
same  results,  when,  mortified  and  angry,  I 
returned,  cold  and  hungry,  to  my  solitary  home 
and  made  a  dinner  of  corn. 

Brooding  over  my  ill  luck  and  awkward- 
86 


<Dutlion  ^alton^tall  i^uBBarti 

ness  and  almost  discouraged,  I  concluded  that 
"practice  would  make  perfect,"  and  that  I 
would  try  again  on  the  following  day,  which 
I  did,  and  after  an  hour  or  so  of  unrewarded 
effort  I  succeeded  in  catching  a  large  lake  trout, 
with  which  I  returned  to  my  house  and  soon 
had  boiling  in  my  cartip  kettle ;  and  never  before 
or  since  did  fish  taste  so  good.  After  that  I 
had  no  trouble  in  taking  all  the  fish  I  wanted. 

Every  night  a  wolf  came  and  devoured  the 
remnants  of  the  fish  I  had  thrown  out.  I 
could  see  him  through  the  cracks  of  my  house, 
and  could  easily  have  shot  him,  but  he  was  my 
only  companion,  and  I  laid  awake  at  night 
awaiting  his  coming. 

Thus  I  lived  for  thirty  long,  dreary, 
winter  days,  solitary  and  alone,  never  once 
during  that  time  seeing  a  human  being,  and 
devoured  with  anxiety  as  to  the  fate  of  Dufrain 
and  his  men,  whom  I  feared  had  met  with 
some  serious  mishap,  if,  indeed,  they  had  not 
been  murdered.  My  anxiety  for  the  last  two 
weeks  had  been  most  intense,  and  at  times  I 
was  almost  crazy.  I  could  not  leave  my  goods, 
and  knew  not  what  I  should  do. 

I  looked  upon  the  expedition  as  worse  than 
a  failure,  and  my  first  management  of  a  trad- 
ing house  as  a  disastrous  one.  I  thought  that, 
should  I  live  to  return  to  Mackinaw,  I  should 
be  an  object  of  ridicule  among  the  traders,  and 
have  incurred  the  lasting  displeasure  of  my 
employers,  and  this  was  to  be  the  end  of  all 
87 


€l)e  ^utobiograpJjp  of 


my  bright  anticipations  for  the  future.  Oh, 
that  I  had  been  permitted  to  again  accompany 
Mr.  Deschamps  and  join  my  old  companions 
at  Beebeau's  trading  house. 

My  joy  can  be  better  imagined  than  described 
when,  one  morning,  I  discovered  a  party  of 
men  at  the  head  of  the  lake  coming  toward  me. 
I  supposed  them  to  be  Indians,  but  was  soon 
rejoiced  to  recognize  among  them  Dufrain  and 
his  two  companions.  Having  disposed  of  all 
their  goods,  and  been  successful  in  their  trad- 
ing, they  had  secured  a  large  number  of  furs, 
and  with  the  assistance  of  Indians,  whom 
they  had  hired  and  equipped  in  snow-shoes, 
they  had  carried  them  on  their  backs.  At  the 
sight  of  the  rich  treasures  they  unloaded  all  my 
gloomy  anticipations  fled,  and  Joy  and  satisfac- 
tion reigned  in  their  stead. 

The  expedition  had  been  one  of  great  suc- 
cess; the  goods  had  all  been  disposed  of,  and  in 
their  place  they  brought  the  finest  and  richest 
of  furs — marten,  beaver,  bear,  lynx,  fox,  otter, 
and  mink  making  up  their  collection. 

Dufrain  had  a  long  account  to  give  of  trials, 
disappointments,  and  perseverance.  He  was 
ten  days  in  finding  the  first  band  of  Indians,  and 
these  had  already  been  visited  by  an  opposition 
trader,  who  cleared  the  camp  of  all  the  valu- 
able furs  and  told  the  Indians  that  no  trader 
would  come  to  Muskegon.  The  Indians 
regretted  his  late  arrival,  as  he  was  a  great 
favorite  with  them. 

88 


<Duttimt  J^alton^all  i^ubiiarti 

Though  in  their  progress  thus  far  they  had 
suffered  greatly  from  want  of  provisions,  and 
had  progressed  but  slowly  and  with  great 
fatigue  owing  to  the  depth  of  the  snow,  they^ 
determined  to  push  on  to  other  camps  and 
dispose  of  their  goods  before  the  other  trader 
should  reach  them.  Having  provided  himself 
and  party  with  provisions  and  snow-shoes, 
Dufrain  despatched  an  Indian  to  me  to  tell  me 
of  his  movements,  and  that  he  should  be  gone 
twenty  days  longer,  and  started  on  his  way. 
We  afterwards  learned  that  after  a  half-day's 
travel  the  Indian  injured  his  foot  and  was  com- 
pelled to  return  to  the  camp,  and  thus  I  was 
left  in  ignorance  of  Dufrain's  movements. 

All  was  joy  that  night  in  our  little  household, 
the  men  as  glad  to  return  as  I  was  to  welcome 
them.  I  feasted  them  bountifully  on  com  soup 
and  fish  and  listened  to  the  recital  of  the  inci- 
dents of  their  trip. 

Another  trip  was  decided  on  to  go  to  the 
camp  of  some  Indians  he  had  heard  of,  but 
not  seen,  and  who  were  in  need  of  clothing, 
and  had  an  abundance  of  furs.  As  time  was 
very  precious,  the  following  day  was  devoted 
to  selecting  and  packing  goods  and  making 
preparations  for  departure.  I  decided  to  go 
with  this  expedition,  though  Dufrain  remon- 
strated, and  told  me  I  could  not  stand  the 
hardships  of  the  journey;  that  having  never 
traveled  on  snow-shoes  I  would  have  the  trial  du 
raquette,   or  become   sick,   and    thus   detain 

89 


€f)e  ^utobiograjjf)?  of 


them;  but  to  my  mind  anything  could  be  easier 
endured  than  another  month  of  such  soHtude 
as  I  had  just  passed  through,  and  nial  du 
raquette  or  sickness  were  nothing  to  be  com- 
pared with  what  I  had  endured. 

On  the  following  morning  we  departed, 
leaving  one  man  in  charge  of  the  house. 
Though  my  pack  was  only  half  as  heavy  as  the 
others,  the  day  was  one  of  untold  misery  to  me, 
never-  having  walked  in  snow-shoes  before. 
The  day  was  clear  and  cold,  the  country  rough 
and  hilly  and  covered  with  underbrush,  and 
every  few  minutes  I  tripped  and  fell,  and 
usually  landed  at  full  length  and  buried  my 
face  in  the  snow,  from  which  I  could  not  arise 
without  assistance  from  the  others.  By  noon 
I  was  completely  exhausted,  and  my  load  was 
carried  by  one  of  the  others;  and  though  we 
had  made  an  early  start,  when  we  camped  at 
night  we  had  traveled  only  about  six  miles. 

Then  came  the  preparations  for  the  night's 
rest.  The  snow  was  about  two  feet  deep, 
and  shelter  we  had  none.  A  place  was  selected 
by  the  side  of  a  large  fallen  tree,  the  snow  was 
scraped  from  the  ground,  and  a  place  clearp,d 
of  about  six  feet  by  ten,  dry  and  green  wood 
cut  and  piled  up  to  the  windward  of  the  log, 
and  a  fire  struck  with  flint  and  steel.  Hem- 
lock boughs  were  cut  for  bedding,  and  these 
covered  with  a  blanket,  to  keep  them  down 
and  in  place;  then  the  packs  were  placed  at 
one  end  to  protect  our  heads  from  the  wind, 
90 


and  our  beds  were  complete.  During  our 
march  we  had  killed  two  porcupines,  and  these 
were  dressed  and  toasted  on  sticks,  and  with 
our  pounded  parched  corn  made  a  very  delicious 
supper.  And  as  we  had  eaten  nothing  since 
early  morning  good  appetites  gave  additional 
zest  to  the  repast. 

After  supper,  a  smoke,  and  then  to  bed,  all 
lying  together  on  the  hemlock  beds,  covered 
with  the  two  remaining  blankets,  with  our  feet 
to  the  fire,  which  we  replenished  through  the 
night.  I  slept  but  little,  being  kept  awake  by 
the  aching  of  my  legs,  the  muscles  of  which 
were  badly  swollen. 

Before  day  all  were  up,  and  breakfast  was 
made  from  the  remnants  of  the  previous 
night's  supper,  and  by  the  time  it  was  light 
we  were  ready  to  resume  our  journey.  I  was 
so  stiff  and  lame  that  I  could  scarcely  walk, 
and  Dufrain  advised  me  to  return,  he  offering 
to  go  part  way  with  me,  and  there  meet  the 
other  man,  whom  I  should  send  from  the 
house.  I  at  first  thought  I  would  do  so,  but 
the  recollection  of  the  lonely  month  of  anxiety 
I  had  passed  there  soon  determined  me  to  go 
on  with  the  party,  and  all  Dufrain 's  arguments 
failed  to  change  my  purpose.  Every  step 
caused  me  suffering,  but  as  I  warmed  up  the 
pain  by  degrees  left  me.  I  had  caught  the 
knack  of  throwing  out  the  heels  of  my 
snow-shoes  by  a  slight  turn  of  the  foot, 
and   my  falls  were  less  frequent,  and  when 

9» 


€!je  ^utobiograpfjp  of 


we  camped  at  night  we  estimated  that  we  had 
made  during  the  day  about  three  leagues  or 
nine  miles. 

During  the  day  we  had  cut  from  a  hollow 
tree  two  rabbits,  and  these  with  corn  furnished 
our  supper.  Our  camp  was  made  as  on  the 
previous  night.  In  the  morning  we  consumed 
the  remainder  of  our  stock  of  corn,  as  we  ex- 
pected to  reach  an  Indian  camp  by  night,  and 
made  our  usual  early  start. 

Snow  soon  commenced  falling,  and  con- 
tinued hard  all  day,  and  as  the  weather  had 
moderated  the  snow  stuck  to  our  shoes,  making 
them  heavy  and  the  walking  very  tiresome; 
we  failed  to  find  the  Indians,  and  camped  for 
the  night  with  nothing  to  eat.  The  muscles  of 
my  toes  were  very  sore,  and  on  removing  my 
moccasins  and  neips,  I  found  my  feet  much 
swollen,  and  at  the  tops  where  the  strap 
that  held  my  snow-shoes  was  fastened,  they 
were  red  and  bruised,  sure  signs  of  "mal  du 
raquette."  The  morning  found  me  in  a  sad 
condition,  the  swelling  much  increased,  and 
the  tops  of  my  feet  so  sore  that  I  could  not 
bear  my  snow-shoes  without  great  pain;  still, 
on  we  went,  I  hobbling  along  as  best  I  could. 
The  snow  still  fell,  and  about  noon  we  reached 
the  Indian  camp,  and  were  provided  with  dinner 
by  a  squaw,  and  did  ample  justice  to  the  bear 
meat  and  corn  soup  which  she  provided. 

In  the  evening  the  Indians  returned  from 
hunting  and  trapping,  bringing  a  good  supply 
92 


of  furs,  and  the  following  forenoon  was  em- 
ployed by  them  in  selling  their  furs,  and  settling 
with  Dufrain  for  the  goods  he  had  sold  to 
them  on  a  previous  trip.  We  remained  in 
this  camp  five  days,  and  I  was  very  kindly 
treated.  The  old  squaw  poulticed  my  feet 
with  herbs,  and  for  two  days  I  practiced  every 
hour  or  so  on  my  snow-shoes,  so  that  when  we 
left  these  hospitable  people  I  felt  well  and 
strong,  and  had  no  trouble  in  keeping  up  with 
the  others,  nor  was  I  tired  at  night.  We 
camped  in  the  usual  manner,  having  made 
fifteen  miles  that  day. 

Just  at  dark  of  the  next  day,  as  we  were  pre- 
paring our  camp,  we  heard  the  bark  of  a  dog, 
and  knew  the  Indians  were  near;  taking  up 
our  march,  we  soon  reached  their  camp,  where 
we  remained  for  two  days.  A  grand  feast 
was  prepared  by  the  Indians,  partly  in  honor 
of  our  visit,  at  which  all  the  meat  and  broth 
set  before  us  must  be  eaten,  and  the  bones 
saved  and  buried  with  appropriate  ceremonies, 
as  an  offering  to  the  Great  Spirit,  that  he 
might  favor  them  in  the  hunt.  The  offering 
was  a  fat  bear,  over  which  a  great  pow-wow 
was  first  had  by  all  the  inmates  of  the  lodges, 
after  which  it  was  carefully  skinned,  cut  into 
small  pieces,  and  put  into  the  kettle  in  the 
presence  of  all. 

During  the  cooking,  speeches  were  made  by 
some  of  the  older  Indians  invoking  the  aid  of 
the  Great  Spirit,  and  when  cooked  the  meat 

93 


€fyt  ^utobiograplip  of 


was  carefully  removed  from  the  kettles  and 
distributed  in  wooden  bowls  to  each  individual 
present  in  such  quantities  as  their  age  and 
capacity  for  eating  would  seem  to  warrant,  and 
all  received  their  just  proportion.  Then  the  oil 
was  skimmed  off,  and  it  and  the  broth  divided 
in  a  like  manner;  a  harangue  was  delivered 
by  the  head  of  the  lodge,  asking  the  Good 
Spirit  to  favor  them  in  the  chase  and  keep  them 
well  and  free  from  harm;  and  then  the  eating 
commenced. 

I  thought  they  had  given  me  a  larger  portion 
than  my  age  and  capacity  demanded,  but  Du- 
frain  told  me  that  I  must  eat  all  the  meat  and 
drink  all  the  oil  and  broth,  and  leave  the  bones 
in  my  bowl;  that  a  failure  to  do  so  would  be 
considered  an  insult  to  the  Indians  and  an 
offense  to  the  Great  Spirit.  "But,"  I  said, 
"they  have  given  me  more  than  the  others, 
and  it  is  impossible  for  me  to  swallow  it  all." 
Dufrain  replied:  "They  have  given  you  the 
best  portion  as  a  compliment;  you  must  receive 
it,  and  eat  and  drink  every  bit  and  every  drop, 
otherwise  we  shall  have  trouble."  "Well, 
you  must  help  me,  then,"  I  said.  "No,"  he 
repHed;  "I  can't  help  you;  each  person  must 
eat  all  that  is  given  him,  and  will  not  be  allowed 
to  part  with  any  portion  of  it;  I  am  sorry  for 
you,  as  well  as  for  myself,  and  wish  it  had 
been  a  cub,  instead  of  a  fat  bear,  but  I  shall 
eat  mine  if  it  kills  me." 

It  was  between  eight  and  nine  o'clock  at 

94 


night,  and  the  fire,  which  furnished  the  only 
Hght  in  the  lodge,  was  low,  and  my  location 
was  in  the  back  part  of  the  lodge,  where  my 
movements  could  not  be  easily  detected.  I 
wore  a  French  capote  or  hood,  which  sug- 
gested itself  to  my  mind  as  being  my  only 
chance  for  disposing  of  a  portion  of  the  con- 
tents of  my  bowl,  and  I  determined  to  attempt 
it.  I  felt  that  extreme  caution  was  necessary, 
and  no  little  dexterity  required  to  slip  the  meat 
into  the  hood  unobserved;  but  I  took  the  first 
opportunity,  and  succeeded  in  safely  depositing 
a  piece  without  detection  even  by  Dufrain,  who 
sat  next  to  me.  I  proceeded  eating  slowly,  so 
that  no  notice  might  be  taken  of  the  diminished 
quantity  in  my  bowl,  and  soon  succeeded  in 
depositing  another  piece,  and  then  a  third,  and 
ended  by  eating  the  last  piece.  There  still 
remained  the  oil  and  broth,  and  I  feared  that 
my  now  overburdened  stomach  could  not  stand 
this  addition  to  its  load.  The  grease  had 
soaked  through  the  cloth  of  my  capote,  and  I 
could  feel  it  trickling  down  my  back,  and  I 
told  Dufrain,  in  Indian,  that  I  must  go  out, 
and  asked  him  not  to  let  my  bowl  be  tipped 
over  while  I  was  gone.  The  Indians  laughed, 
and  I  hastily  made  my  exit,  threw  the  pieces  of 
meat  to  the  dogs,  and  then,  thrusting  my  fin- 
gers down  my  throat,  endeavored  to  produce 
an  eruption  which  should  provide  room  for 
what  I  still  had  to  swallow;  failing  in  this 
attempt,  however,  I  returned  to  my  place  in 

95 


€l&e  9lutoIiiograp!jp  of 


the  lodge,  and  by  persistent  effort  finally  suc- 
ceeded in  swallowing  the  remainder. 

The  ceremony  of  gathering  the  bones  was 
then  gone  through  with  by  the  head  of  the 
lodge  picking  them  up  very  carefully  and  depos- 
iting them  in  a  bowl,  then  another  harangue, 
and  we  were  left  to  chat  and  barter  as  suited 
us  best. 

From  these  Indians  we  learned  of  two  camps 
situated  in  opposite  directions,  and  from  them 
engaged  a  guide  to  go  with  one  of  our  men  to 
one  camp,  and  from  there  to  another,  we  had 
before  known  of,  and  to  return  home,  where 
we  were  to  meet  him.  Dufrain,  being  well 
acquainted  with  the  country,  felt  confident  that 
he  could  go  directly  to  the  other  camp  in  one 
day's  travel,  and  I  decided  to  go  with  him. 
When  we  lay  down  it  was  snowing  hard,  which 
continued  through  the  night.  We  arose  as 
usual  before  dawn  of  day,  and  partook  of  a 
nice  dish  of  corn  soup,  which  had  been  pre- 
pared for  us  by  the  good  squaw  in  whose  lodge 
we  had  slept,  and  as  soon  as  possible  started. 
The  snow  continued  falling,  and  being  soft 
stuck  to  our  snow-shoes  and  made  the  traveling 
very  hard  and  fatiguing,  and  by  ten  o'clock  I 
discovered  that  my  companion  was  in  doubt 
as  to  our  whereabouts,  and  at  noon  we  halted 
near  a  large  fallen  tree  to  strike  fire  for  a 
smoke.  When  I  asked  him  if  we  should  reach 
the  camps  that  night,  his  reply  was  that  we 
should  have  reached  the  river  by  that  time, 
96 


<lBurtion  J>aftmtj0?tan  JpuBBarti 

which  would  have  been  more  than  half  way. 
He  said  he  did  not  know  where  we  were,  the 
woods  looked  strange,  but  perhaps  that  was 
because  there  was  so  much  snow  on  the  trees. 
It  had  then  stopped  snowing,  though  with  no 
appearance  of  clearing  off. 

Soon  after  we  started  the  storm  again  com- 
menced harder  than  ever,  and  I  clearly  saw 
that  we  were  not  going  in  the  right  direction, 
and  ventured  to  tell  Dufrain  so.  He  was  very 
passionate,  and  replied  sharply  that  if  I  knew 
the  way  better  than  he  I  had  better  take  the 
lead;  thus  rebuked,  I  followed  on  in  silence. 
About  four  o'clock  we  found  two  tracks  of 
snow-shoes.  "Ah,"  said  Dufrain,  "you  see 
we  are  right;  these  tracks  are  of  to-day;  there 
is  new  snow  on  them;  had  they  been  of  yester- 
day they  would  have  been  covered  over  so  we 
could  not  see  them;  they  were  made  by  hunters 
from  the  camps  this  morning,  but  we  can't  go 
further  than  the  river  to-night.  We  will  take 
the  back  tracks  and  they  will  lead  us  to  the 
camps." 

It  so  happened  that  during  the  earlier  part 
of  the  day  I  had  noticed  a  peculiar  leaning 
tree,  which  was  now  in  sight,  and  I  told  him 
we  were  lost,  and  would  soon  reach  the  log 
where  we  had  stopped  at  noon.  He  could  not 
believe  that  I  was  right,  and  on  we  went,  but 
before  dark  he  was  convinced  by  our  reaching 
the  same  log,  and  there  we  camped  for  the 
night.  We  both  slept  soundly,  and  arose 
97 


€lfje  ^ittobiograpf)?  of 


refreshed.  The  snow  still  falling,  we  hesitated 
for  some  time,  undecided  whether  to  take  our 
back  track  to  the  camp  we  had  left,  or  to 
strike  for  the  river  in  the  direction  we  thought 
it  to  be.  Knowing  that  if  the  snow  continued, 
of  which  there  was  every  prospect,  our  tracks 
would  soon  be  obliterated,  and  Dufrain  feeling 
confident  that  we  could  find  the  river  and  then 
know  where  we  were,  we  decided  to  proceed. 
We  traveled  all  day,  and  camped  at  night 
without  having  reached  it.  Again,  another 
day's  weary  tramp  with  the  same  result,  and 
Dufrain  was  willing  to  admit  that  he  had  no  idea 
where  we  were.  We  still  held  our  course,  and 
again  laid  down  to  sleep,  very  tired  and  hungry. 
The  following  day  Dufrain  became  very 
weak,  and  was  much  frightened;  still  snowy, 
clouded,  and  dark;  snow  fully  three  feet  deep. 
When  we  started  the  next  morning,  the  clouds 
were  breaking  away,  and  by  nine  o'clock,  the 
sun  burst  forth  for  the  first  time  since  we  left 
the  Indian  camp.  We  then  saw  we  were 
traveling  a  westerly  course,  and  changed  to 
the  north.  Dufrain  was  very  weak,  and  our 
progress  was  necessarily  very  slow.  Near  a 
creek  we  found  a  thorn-apple  tree,  and  remov- 
ing the  snow  from  the  ground,  found  a  few 
apples,  which  we  devoured  with  a  relish,  and 
soon  after  struck  the  Muskegon  River.  Fol- 
lowing up  the  river,  we  discovered  on  the 
opposite  bank  the  poles  of  an  Indian  lodge, 
bark  canoes,  and  a  scaffold  upon  which  was 
q8 


deposited  matting  for  covering  lodges.  It  was 
very  cold,  the  river  full  of  floating  ice,  and  not 
fordable.  Dufrain  recognized  the  spot,  and 
said  that  a  half  mile  above  were  rapids,  where 
the  river  could  be  forded.  Having  reached 
the  rapids  we  crossed  with  great  difficulty,  the 
water  in  places  being  up  to  our  waists,  and 
the  ice  floating  against  us.  When  we  reached 
the  scaffold,  our  clothes  were  frozen  stiff. 
We  took  down  some  of  the  mats,  cleared  the 
snow,  and  made  a  comfortable  lodge,  suffi- 
ciently large  to  shelter  us. 

Dufrain  carried  the  flint,  steel,  and  tinder 
in  a  bag,  and  after  we  had  gathered  wood  for 
a  fire,  he  discovered  that  he  had  lost  it.  We 
were  indeed  in  a  serious  predicament,  covered 
with  ice,  and  shivering  with  cold;  we  supposed 
that  we  should  certainly  freeze  to  death. 
Dufrain  abandoned  all  hope,  and  began  to  cross 
himself  and  say  his  prayers.  I  opened  the 
bales  of  goods,  and  took  from  them  what 
blankets  and  cloth  they  contained,  cut  more 
hemlock  boughs,  and  took  down  more  matting, 
and  then  we  lay  down  close  to  each  other,  and 
covered  up  with  the  blankets  and  cloth.  Soon 
the  ice  on  our  clothing  began  to  thaw  from  the 
warmth  of  our  bodies,  and  we  fell  asleep, 
never  waking  until  sunrise. 

We  did  not  feel  hungry,  but  were  very  weak, 
and  neither  felt  inclined  to  move.  We  were 
dry  and  warm,  and  felt  more  like  lying  where 
we  were  and  awaiting  death  than  of  making 

99 


€!)e  ^utofixogra}j!)p  of 


any  further  effort  to  save  our  lives.  We  knew 
the  Indians  could  not  be  far  away,  and  sup- 
posed we  might  soon  find  a  snow-shoe  path 
which  would  lead  us  to  their  lodges,  but  were 
not  capable  of  making  the  effort  to  save  our- 
selves. My  own  reflections  of  the  responsi- 
bility resting  upon  me,  and  thoughts  of  my  wid- 
owed mother,  brother  and  sisters,  finally  nerved 
me  to  make  an  effort.  I  told  Dufrain  that  we 
must  get  up  and  go  to  the  camps,  and  that  I 
would  go  and  reconnoitre,  find  the  path  and 
return  for  him;  to  my  great  disappointment, 
however,  I  could  find  no  snow-shoe  tracks; 
but  after  a  careful  search  I  discovered  some 
small  saplings  broken  off  just  above  the  snow, 
and  could,  by  the  feeling  as  I  stepped,  dis- 
cover that  there  was  a  path  under  the  newly 
fallen  snow.  I  followed  it  for  a  short  distance, 
when  I  saw  a  blaze  on  a  tree,  and  knew  that  I 
was  going  in  the  right  direction  to  find  the 
camps.  I  returned  for  my  companion,  whom 
I  found  sleeping,  and  seeming  not  to  have 
moved  during  my  absence.  With  great  diffi- 
culty I  aroused  him  and  put  on  his  snow-shoes, 
and  then,  having  placed  both  packs  upon  the 
scaffold,  started  on  the  march.  I  had  much 
trouble  in  keeping  the  path,  which  I  followed 
by  the  broken  twigs  and  an  occasional  blaze 
on  a  tree,  and  our  progress  was  very  slow. 
About  noon  we  struck  a  fresh  snow-shoe  track, 
and  this  gave  me  renewed  energy,  for  I  knew 
it  had  been  made  by  a  hunter  from  the  Indian 

100 


<Durtion  ^alton^eftaH  IJutitiarti 

camps,  and  that  by  following  the  back  track  I 
should  reach  the  lodges.  Dufrain  was  not  in 
the  least  moved  by  this  good  fortune;  in  fact, 
was  stupid  and  inclined  to  stop,  frequently 
crossed  himself,  while  his  lips  moved  as  if  in 
prayer,  and  it  required  much  effort  and  per- 
suasion on  my  part  to  get  him  to  move  slowly 
forward,  he  frequently  protesting  that  he  could 
not  move  another  step. 

Intent  on  my  progress,  and  for  a  time  for- 
getting my  comrade,  I  advanced  as  rapidly  as 
possible,  and  on  looking  around  for  Dufrain, 
I  found  he  was  not  in  sight;  I  deliberated  a 
moment  whether  to  return  for  him  or  continue 
on  my  way.  My  own  strength  was  fast  failing, 
and  I  feared  that  delay  would  be  certain  death. 
I  resolved,  however,  to  make  a  last  effort,  and 
turned  back;  I  found  him  lying  asleep  in  the 
snow.  I  tried  to  arouse  him,  but  he  would 
open  his  eyes  but  for  a  moment,  and  say,  "I 
can't;  leave  me."  Finding  my  attempts  use- 
less, I  dug  away  the  snow,  wrapped  him  in  his 
blanket,  with  mine  over  him,  and  left  him. 

I  started  forward  conscious  that  I  myself 
might  soon  be  in  the  same  condition,  though 
determined  not  to  give  up  while  there  was  a 
hope.  I  felt  no  hunger,  but  was  very  weak; 
the  perspiration  ran  from  every  pore,  and  at 
times  everything  seemed  to  waiver  before  me, 
with  momentary  darkness.  I  seemed  almost 
to  faint;  still  I  moved  on,  reeling  like  a  drunken 
man.  Coming  to  new  tracks,  and  hearing  the 
lox 


€l&e  ^utobto0tap]^p  of 


barking  of  a  dog,  told  me  I  was  nearing  a 
lodge,  and  gave  me  new  strength  to  advance. 
Soon  I  was  gladdened  by  the  glimpse  of  a 
lodge,  and  a  few  minutes  more  was  seated  on 
a  bearskin  within.  It  was  a  solitary  hut  on 
the  bank  of  a  creek,  and  in  it  was  a  middle- 
aged  Indian,  with  his  arm  bandaged,  and  his 
squaw  with  three  or  four  young  children.  I 
sat  and  awaited  the  usual  custom  of  the  Indians 
to  set  before  a  stranger  something  to  eat,  but 
seeing  no  move  in  that  direction,  I  told  the 
squaw  that  I  was  hungry  and  had  not  eaten 
for  four  days  and  nights.  She  exclaimed: 
"Nin  guid  buck-a-ta-minna  baein"  (we  too 
are  hungry;  my  husband  broke  his  arm) .  She 
opened  a  sack  and  took  out  a  small  portion  of 
pounded  corn,  which  she  stirred  into  a  kettle 
of  water  and  placed  over  the  fire  to  boil,  and 
soon  as  it  was  ready  gave  me  a  very  small 
quantity,  about  half  a  pint,  and  replaced  the 
kettle  over  the  fire. 

I  supposed  I  was  hungry,  though  I  did  not 
feel  so,  and  supping  a  little  from  the  woodeji 
dish  found  it  difficult  to  swallow.  This  fright- 
ened me  and  I  lay  down  and  slept. 

I  was  awakened  by  the  squaw,  who  gave 
me  more  soup  from  the  kettle,  which  I  ate 
with  a  relish  and  asked  for  more.  "No," 
she  said,  "lie  down  and  sleep,  and  I  will  awake 
you  and  give  you  more  after  awhile. "  This  I 
did,  and  was  awakened  after  dark  refreshed 
but  very  sore  and  lame;  took  what  soup  was 

102 


given  me,  and  still  wanting  more;  she  refused 
me,  saying,  "after  a  little";  and  that  she 
knew  best  how  to  relieve  me. 

I  noticed  that  the  children  frequently  went 
out  of  doors,  and  that  there  was  a  look  of 
anxiety  on  the  countenances  of  both  the  Indian 
and  squaw,  which  I  thought  was  on  my 
account;  but  asking,  he  replied  that  his  oldest 
son  went  out  early  in  the  morning  to  try  to 
kill  something  for  them  to  eat,  and  they  were 
fearful  some  accident  had  befallen  him. 

Up  to  this  time  I  had  not  spoken  of  Dufrain, 
because  I  saw  there  was  no  one  to  go  for  him, 
and  had  there  been,  he  could  not  have  been 
reached  before  dark.  The  moon  would  rise 
about  midnight,  and  then  I  had  determined  to 
ask  the  squaw  to  go  with  me  for  him,  though 
I  had  no  idea  of  finding  him  alive.  They 
were  well  acquainted  with  him,  and  on  my 
telling  them  of  his  situation  the  squaw  parched 
what  corn  she  had  left,  pounded  it  and  got  it 
ready,  and  we  made  preparations  to  go  after 
him. 

The  squaw  and  her  husband  both  thought 
that  their  son  had  gone  to  the  river  to  see  if 
the  canoe  and  scaffold  were  safe,  and  that  it 
was  his  track  that  I  had  followed  to  the  camp. 
While  we  were  discussing  this  idea,  the  dogs 
barked;  the  children  ran  out,  and  soon  returned 
with  the  news  that  their  brother  had  returned ; 
and  he  soon  entered,  bearing  a  cub,  whereat 
there  was  great  rejoicing.  It  being  the  first 
103 


€l)e  ^utoBiograjJl^p  of 


of  the  larger  animals  he  had  ever  killed,  it  must 
be  offered  to  the  Great  Spirit  as  a  thank  offering, 
and  the  boy  must  fast  for  two  days.  The 
father  sat  up  and  beat  a  drum ;  the  boy  black- 
ened his  face,  the  bear  was  skinned,  and  pre- 
parations made  for  a  feast,  though  fortunately 
the  feast  was  not  to  be  similar  to  the  one  I 
had  attended  shortly  before,  when  all  was  to 
be  eaten. 

After  hearing  who  I  was,  and  that  Jaco 
(Dufrain's  Indian  name)  had  been  left  behind, 
the  boy  volunteered  to  go  with  me  in  search 
of  him;  and  when  the  moon  rose,  though  I 
was  scarcely  able  to  move,  we  started.  The 
Indian  and  his  wife  protested  against  my  going, 
insisting  that  the  boy  and  his  mother  could  go 
without  me,  and  I  should  gladly  have  con- 
sented to  remain  had  I  not  known  that  if  my 
comrade  was  found  alive  no  one  but  me  could 
get  him  to  make  an  attempt  to  move. 

The  boy  in  his  hunting  had  made  a  long 
detour,  and  on  my  describing  the  place  where 
I  had  left  Dufrain,  he  was  able  to  reach  it  by 
a  much  shorter  route  than  by  following  his 
tracks  as  I  had  done.  In  about  an  hour  we 
reached  Dufrain  and  found  him  apparently 
lifeless,  but  still  warm.  By  much  effort  we 
aroused  him  so  that  he  could  speak,  but  he 
persisted  in  remaining  where  he  was,  said  he 
was  stiff  and  could  not  walk,  and  closed  his 
eyes  and  again  dropped  to  sleep.  It  required 
our  utmost  effort  to  raise  him  to  his  feet, 
104 


and  by  short  stages  to  finally  reach  the  camp 
just  as  the  sun  rose. 

We  made  him  as  comfortable  as  possible, 
and  by  feeding  him  a  little  every  few  minutes 
revived  him.  His  feet  and  legs  were  badly 
swollen,  so  much  so  that  I  was  obliged  to  rip 
his  leggings  to  get  them  off;  his  feet  were  in 
a  most  terrible  condition;  the  strings  of  his 
snow-shoes  had  so  bruised  his  toes  that  blood 
had  oozed  out  and  completely  saturated  the 
neips;  and,  to  add  to  his  misery,  the  poor  fellow 
was  ruptured,  and  it  was  several  days  before 
I  could  replace  the  protruding  parts.  He 
gained  slowly,  and  it  was  a  week  before  he 
could  sit  up;  and  despairing  of  his  restoration 
so  as  to  be  able  to  bear  the  journey  home, 
with  the  assistance  of  the  boy  and  his  mother 
I  constructed  a  train-de-clese  on  which  to 
remove  him. 

During  my  ten  days'  stay  I  had  daily  caught 
in  traps  from  one  to  a  dozen  partridges;  and 
these,  added  to  what  the  boy  had  killed,  fur- 
nished us  a  sufficiency  of  food,  though  at  times 
our  rations  were  limited. 

I  finally  got  my  sled  fully  rigged,  though 
my  friend  was  still  unable  to  sit  up  more  than 
an  hour  at  a  time.  We  had  already  spent 
more  than  ten  days,  and  I  felt  that  I  could 
remain  no  longer,  and  a  decision  must  be 
made,  either  to  leave  him  and  return  for  him, 
or  draw  him  on  the  sled  to  our  home.  The 
old  Indian  said  we  might  accomplish  his  re- 
105 


€l^e  ^utoBiograjjJjp  of 


moval;  but  he  thought  it  extremely  doubtful, 
the  country  being  very  hilly  and  covered  with 
underbrush.  I  left  it  to  Dufrain  to  decide, 
and  as  he  chose  to  go,  I  started,  with  the 
young  Indian  to  assist  me.  We  had  a  terrible 
journey  over  hills  and  through  thick  under- 
growth, and  after  three  days  of  most  severe 
toil  reached  our  trading  house,  our  invalid 
having  borne  the  journey  remarkably  well. 

The  other  party  had  only  returned  two  days 
before,  and  all  were  anxious  about  us,  and 
were  about  organizing  an  expedition  to  go  in 
search  of  us.  I  was  almost  worn  out  from 
the  hardships  I  had  endured  and  from  drag- 
ging my  comrade. 

Dufrain  never  left  our  cabin  until  we  carried 
him  to  a  canoe  in  the  spring  to .  start  for 
Mackinaw.  There  was  a  light  wind  the  day 
we  started  and  the  motion  of  the  canoe  caused 
vomiting,  and  before  we  could  reach  a  harbor 
at  White  River  he  died,  and  we  buried  him 
in  the  bluff.  He  was  very  fond  of  card-play- 
ing during  his  life,  and  some  Indians  having 
camped  on  the  bluffs  where  we  buried  him 
reported  that  at  night  they  heard  his  voice 
calling  out  the  name  of  the  cards  as  he  played 
them,  "corno"  (diamond),  "cune"  (h6art), 
etc.;  and  though  the  river  was  a  great  resort 
for  the  Indians  in  the  spring,  where  they  used 
the  peculiar  white  clay  for  washing  their  blan- 
kets, for  years  after  they  avoided  it,  believing 
it  to  be  haunted. 

io6 


KALAMAZOO  RIVER.  — COS  A.  — AN  ACCI- 
DENT.—A  VISIT.  — WOLF  STORIES.— 
CROOKED   CREEK. 

We  were  among  the  very  first  of  the  traders  to 
reach  Mackinaw,  and  after  making  my  returns 
to  Mr.  Stewart  I  was  detailed  for  a  time  to  the 
retail  store.  On  Mr.  Matthews'  return  from 
Montreal  I  was  assigned  to  duty  under  him  in 
the  assorting  and  packing  house,  where  the 
business  was  conducted  in  the  same  manner 
as  previously  described,  and  lasted  until  the 
last  of  July  or  first  of  August. 

My  third  winter  was  spent  on  the  Kalama- 
zoo River,  in  Michigan,  my  trading  house 
being  on  the  north  bank  of  the  river,  and 
opposite  the  present  city  of  Kalamazoo,  and 
for  the  first  time  I  had  full  control  of  an 
"outfit." 

My  crew  consisted  of  three  Canadians,  who 
were  accustomed  to  trading  at  that  post,  and 
an  Indian  named  Cosa,  well  and  favorably 
known  among  the  Indians  for  bravery  and  in- 
telligence. He  had  years  before  abandoned 
hunting,  preferring  to  engage  for  the  winter 
with  some  one  of  the  regular  traders  as  an 
ordinary  man  or  voyageur.  He  received  one 
hundred  dollars  for  his  winter's  service,  which 
was  considered  a  high  price  for  so  short  a  time, 
and  was  as  much  as  two  Canadians  received 
for  a  whole  year.  But  as  he  was  perfectly 
familiar  with  the  country,  and  well  acquainted 
107 


€j)e  ^uto&iograjjljp  of 


with  the  Indians,  had  a  good  reputation  as  a 
trader,  and  furnished  two  horses  of  his  own, 
besides  the  services  of  his  wife,  I  was  glad  to 
secure  him  even  at  that  price. 

This  post  was  a  pleasant  one,  though  the 
hunting  grounds  were  very  much  scattered, 
which  made  constant  watchfulness  and  activity 
necessary  to  secure  the  furs  and  dispose  of 
goods.  The  winter  was  one  of  great  hardship, 
and  my  men  were  constantly  out  collecting 
furs,  and  occasionally  I  myself  made  a  trip. 
Cosa  sometimes  took  his  wife  with  him  in 
place  of  a  man — she  riding  on  one  of  the 
horses. 

One  evening  on  their  return  they  reported 
having  come  across  a  camp  of  Indians  on  a 
branch  of  the  Paw-Paw  River,  who  had  an 
abundance  of  furs  and  peltries,  but  Cosa, 
being  out  of  goods,  could  only  get  from  them 
what  they  already  owed. 

One  of  the  Indians  was  very  sick,  and  his 
friends  had  sent  for  a  famous  Indian  doctor, 
who  Cosa  said  always  introduced  his  curing 
ceremonies  by  a  drunken  carousal.  Cosa 
thought  that  we  might  get  their  furs  if  we  could 
reach  them  ahead  of  the  St.  Joseph  traders 
(who  were  connected  with  an  opposition  com- 
pany), but  he  considered  a  little  whisky  abso- 
lutely necessary  to  secure  their  trade.  I  asked 
him  to  return  to  their  camp  in  the  morning 
with  goods  only,  but  he  said  he  was  very  tired. 
I  told  him  that  it  was  but  a  short  day's  journey; 
io8 


that  he  could  take  his  other  horse  that  had  been 
resting;  to  pack  his  goods,  and  that  I  would 
go  with  him,  and  leave  his  wife  to  keep  house. 
He  replied  that  it  would  be  of  no  use  without 
whisky,  but  that  if  I  would  take  the  small  keg 
he  would  go.  He  really  needed  two  or  three 
days'  rest,  and  had  the  reputation  of  being  a 
stubborn,  fearless  fellow,  this  reputation  being 
confirmed  by  his  many  scars,  and  I  did  not 
like  to  command  him  to  go.  Heretofore  he 
had  shown  a  good  disposition,  was  obedient  and 
willing,  and  seemed  to  take  more  interest  in 
the  expedition,  and  had  a  greater  desire  for 
good  results,  than  any  of  the  other  men,  and 
I  did  not  like  to  anger  him  if  it  could  be 
avoided.  I  sought  a  private  opportunity  of 
consulting  his  wife,  who  confirmed  all  he 
had  said,  remarking,  however,  that  she  feared 
her  husband  could  not  refrain  from  joining  in 
the  ceremonies  and  getting  drunk  with  the 
others.  Her  views  decided  me  to  accede  to 
Cosa's  wishes,  and  I  said  to  him:  "Now, 
Cosa,  if  we  take  the  little  keg  and  go  to-morrow, 
will  you  promise  to  stick  by  me,  and  not  taste 
a  drop?"  He  promised,  and  that  night  two 
bales  of  merchandise,  with  the  little  two-gallon 
keg  of  highwines,  watered  one-third,  were  pre- 
pared; and  at  daylight  in  the  morning  the 
pony  was  brought  from  the  woods,  saddled 
and  loaded,  and  we  started,  Cosa  taking  the 
lead. 

I  had  also  provided  an  empty  one-gallon  keg, 
109 


€l)e  ^utotiiograpljp  of 


and  when  about  dark  we  arrived  within  hearing 
of  the  camp,  I  told  Cosa  that  we  would  fill 
our  small  keg,  mixed  with  half  water,  and  hide 
the  other,  so  that  the  Indians  thinking  that 
was  all  we  had  would  be  the  sooner  satisfied. 
To  this  he  assented,  saying  it  was  wise. 
Though  the  highwines  had  been  diluted  one- 
third  it  was  still  quite  strong.  Having  no 
funnel,  how  to  further  mix  it  was  a  dilemma, 
but  we  soon  found  a  way.  We  would  draw  a 
mouthful  from  the  larger  keg  and  spit  it  into 
the  smaller,  and  then  take  a  mouthful  of  water 
and  transfer  it  in  the  same  way,  Cosa  and  I 
alternating  in  the  operation.  It  would  have 
been  wiser  had  I  done  this  alone;  but  I  found  it 
burned  my  mouth  badly  and  so  permitted  him 
to  aid  me,  and  thus  gave  him  a  taste,  though 
I  hardly  think  he  swallowed  any  at  the  time. 
The  transfer  having  been  made,  we  hid  the 
larger  keg  and  proceeded  to  the  camp,  and  to 
our  disappointment  found  that  Bartrand  men 
had  been  there  the  day  before  and  secured  all 
the  furs  and  peltries  except  a  few  remnants. 

Some  of  the  Indians  had  gone  for  the  medi- 
cine man,  while  others  had  gone  to  Bartrand 
for  whisky,  which  had  been  promised  them  in 
the  trade.  I  would  have  returned  had  it  been 
possible,  but  the  horse  was  tired  out,  and  the 
night  very  dark,  so  we  accepted  comfortable 
quarters  which  were  tendered  us,  Cosa  prom- 
ising not  to  disclose  the  fact  of  our  having 
whisky.  The  secret  got  out,  however,  and 
no 


at  early  morn  I  was  beset  on  every  side,  Cosa 
joining  in  the  demand  for  the  whisky. 

There  seemed  to  be  no  way  but  to  sell  a 
little,  so  I  extorted  a  promise  from  Cosa  to 
remain  with  me  in  the  lodge  and  not  to  drink 
any,  and  commenced  collecting  what  few  furs 
they  had  in  exchange  for  the  whisky. 

Cosa  did  not  long  keep  his  promise,  but 
began  to  drink,  and  I  saw  the  necessity  of 
rehiding  the  larger  keg  before  Cosa  should 
reach  the  place.  With  the  assistance  of  a 
squaw  I  changed  the  hiding  place,  first  having 
refilled  the  smaller  keg  (which  I  again  diluted), 
and  hid  it  on  the  scaffold  of  the  lodge  I  was 
in,  and  carefully  covered  it  over.  Cosa  had 
told  the  other  Indians  I  had  more  whisky,  and 
joined  them  in  urging  me  to  give  it  to  them, 
stating  that  if  I  did  not  they  would  go  and  take 
it;  and  being  refused  they  went  with  him  in 
search  of  it.  Being  disappointed  in  their  at- 
tempts the  Indians  began  to  separate  and  go 
to  their  lodges,  and  soon  all  was  quiet  in  the 
camp. 

As  my  feet  were  wet  I  pulled  off  my  moc- 
casins and  laid  down  in  a  wigwam  with  my  feet 
to  the  fire.  Cosa  still  importuning  me  for 
more  drink,  and  I  positively  refusing,  he,  with 
two  drunken  companions,  after  a  long  search, 
succeeded  in  finding  the  concealed  keg.  The 
squaw  who  assisted  me  in  hiding  the  "fire 
water"  had  watched  them,  and  quickly  in- 
formed me  of  their  discovery.  I  ran  out  into 
III 


Cjje  ^utobtograjjfjp  of 


the  snow  barefooted,  and  succeeded  in  reach- 
ing the  place  before  they  could  remove  it  from 
the  scaffold.  I  told  the  two  Indians  that  it 
was  my  property,  and  not  theirs;  that  I  should 
give  them  no  more,  and  forbade  them  to  touch 
it.  They  desisted,  but  Cosa,  to  show  his  inde- 
pendence, advanced  to  take  the  keg,  when  I 
seized  him  by  the  throat,  threw  him  on  his 
back,  and  placing  my  knees  on  his  stomach, 
choked  him  so  he  could  neither  move  nor 
speak,  and  held  him  thus  until  the  squaw  had 
removed  the  keg  and  again  hidden  it.  I  would 
not  let  him  up  until  he  promised  me  to  lie 
down  and  sleep;  for  a  time  he  refused  to  prom- 
ise; but  as  I  only  released  my  grip  upon  his 
throat  long  enough  for  him  to  answer,  and 
then  tightened  it  with  renewed  vigor,  he  was 
soon  glad  to  promise,  when  I  allowed  him  to 
arise  and  conducted  him  to  my  own  comfort- 
able quarters,  covered  him  up,  and  lay  down  by 
his  side. 

Cosa  was  considerably  injured,  and  after 
becoming  sober  slept  but  little.  I  myself  kept 
wide  awake  until  daylight,  when  I  arose,  got 
the  pony  from  the  woods,  loaded  him,  and  as 
soon  as  we  had  eaten  our  breakfast  we  departed 
homeward,  picking  up  the  keg  on  the  way. 
Cosa  was  very  hoarse  from  his  severe  choking, 
and  very  much  mortified  and  humbled,  and 
begged  me  not  to  tell  what  had  taken  place 
when  we  reached  home;  he  was  afterward 
very  faithful  and  attentive  to  his  duties. 

112 


<6urtiott  ^altonjEftall  l^ubBarli 

In  the  month  of  November  I  made  a  trip  to 
Chicago,  and  had  a  very  delightful  visit  of  a 
week  in  Mr.  Kinzie's  family,  received  my 
clothing  which  I  had  left  there  on  my  previous 
visit,  and  returned  to  my  post. 

During  the  fall  of  this  year  I  made  a  cache  in 
the  sandhills  at  the  mouth  of  the  Kalamazoo 
River,  in  which  I  concealed  many  valuables, 
and  early  in  the  month  of  March  following  I  took 
one  of  the  men  and  went  in  a  canoe  for  the  art- 
icles. We  found  everything  safe  and  in  good 
condition,  and  having  loaded  them  into  the  canoe 
started  home.  The  weather  was  very  severe 
for  the  season,  and  the  snow  still  deep,  which 
made  our  camping  very  unpleasant,  and  the 
current  being  swift,  we  had  much  difl&culty  in 
ascending  the  rapids,  at  the  foot  of  which  we 
had  made  our  night's  camp.  I  had  collected 
some  fine  mink,  otter,  and  other  furs  at  two 
Indian  camps  on  the  route,  and  these,  added 
to  the  articles  taken  from  the  cache,  made  a 
very  valuable  load. 

I  took  my  position  in  the  bow  of  the  canoe, 
leaving  my  man  to  steer.  We  had  passed  the 
rapids,  but  were  still  in  a  very  strong  current, 
when  we  came  to  a  fallen  tree  lying  in  the 
river  which  formed  a  partial  eddy.  In  pushing 
around  the  tree  the  strong  current  struck  the 
boat  sidewise,  caused  it  to  careen,  and  I  lost 
my  balance.  To  prevent  the  canoe  from  up- 
setting I  allowed  myself  to  go  overboard  and 
swam  down  the  river;  the  man  quickly  tum- 

"3 


€1)0  ^utotiiogtap{)p  of 


ing  the  head  of  the  boat  down  stream,  we  both 
landed  at  the  bottom  of  the  rapids  at  the  same 
time,  where  we  found  the  fire  of  our  previous 
camp  still  burning.  After  I  had  dried  my  cloth- 
ing we  again  ascended,  and  reached  home  the 
following  day  without  further  mishap. 

Nothing  unusual  occurred  at  my  post  that 
winter  further  than  I  have  related. 

I  made  a  call  on  Rix  Robinson,  who  was  a 
trader  on  Grand  River  above  Grand  Rapids, 
also  in  the  employ  of  the  American  Fur  Com- 
pany, and  my  nearest  neighbor.  It  was  in  the 
month  of  January,  a  few  days  after  a  thaw 
which  had  flooded  the  river,  and  when  I 
reached  the  South  Branch  of  Grand  River  I 
found  the  bottoms  flooded,  but  frozen  hard 
enough  to  bear  me  up,  the  river  very  high  and 
filled  with  floating  ice,  and  no  means  of  cross- 
ing, and  I  had  either  to  return  or  swim  for  it. 
Though  the  day  was  very  cold,  I  chose  the  lat- 
ter, undressed,  and  having  tied  my  clothing  in 
as  compact  a  bundle  as  possible,  rested  it  on 
the  back  of  my  neck,  holding  it  in  place  by  a 
string  between  my  teeth.  I  plunged  in  and 
soon  landed  on  the  opposite  shore,  and  dress- 
ing myself  as  quickly  as  possible,  I  started  on 
a  run  and  soon  became  thoroughly  warmed. 

It  was  growing  late,  but  being  on  the  trail 
leading  to  Robinson's  I  felt  sure  of  reaching 
his  house,  and  arrived  on  the  bank  of  the  main 
river  opposite  to  it  about  nine  o'clock.  I  hal- 
loed a  number  of  times,  and  began  to  despair 
114 


of  being  heard,  and  thought  I  should  be  com- 
pelled to  camp  for  the  night  almost  at  the  door 
of  my  friend.  I  gave  my  last  and  strongest 
yell,  aroused  a  Frenchman,  who  came  down 
to  the  shore  and  answered  me,  saying,  in 
Indian,  "Can't  come  over,"  and  explaining 
that  there  was  too  much  floating  ice  to  cross. 
My  answer,  in  French,  telling  who  I  was 
brought  from  him  the  reply,  "Wait,  we  will 
come  over";  after  a  short  time  two  men  came 
for  me  in  a  boat,  and  I  soon  found  myself 
beside  a  warm  fire  in  my  friend's  cabin;  supper 
was  ordered,  to  which  I  did  ample  justice. 

Robinson  was  much  surprised  at  the  account 
of  my  crossing  the  river.  I  spent  a  few  days 
very  pleasantly,  and  before  leaving  arranged 
with  my  host  to  wait  at  the  mouth  of  the  river 
for  me  on  his  way  back  to  Mackinaw,  so  that 
we  might  proceed  from  there  in  company,  I 
promising  to  be  at  the  meeting  place  at  an 
appointed  day,  not  later  than  the  tenth  of  May. 
Leaving  Robinson's  cabin  at  early  dawn  I 
reached  my  own  post  soon  after  dark,  having 
traveled  sixty  miles.  I  had  made  a  successful 
winter,  and  disposed  of  all  my  goods  except 
a  few  remnants,  and  about  the  twentieth  of 
April  abandoned  my  post  and  descended  the 
river,  stopping  for  a  day  or  two  at  the  foot  of 
the  rapids,  where  a  large  number  of  Indians 
were  assembled  to  catch  sturgeon. 

In  due  time  I  reached  Grand  River,  where 
I  found  Mr.  Robinson  awaiting  me,  and  after 

"5 


€f)e  ^utoBiograpfjp  of 


a  rest  of  six  or  eight  days  we  left  for  Macki- 
naw. We  were  among  the  first  to  arrive, 
and  after  settHng  my  accounts,  I  was  again 
detailed  to  the  fur-packing  house  for  the  season. 

I  had  received  letters  from  my  mother 
telling  of  her  loneliness  and  of  her  great  desire 
to  see  me,  and  felt  very  badly  over  the  news 
these  had  conveyed;  and  when  Mr.  Crooks 
told  me  I  was  to, again  return  to  my  post  on 
the  Kalamazoo  River,  I  asked  to  be  dis- 
charged, giving  as  a  reason  that  my  mother 
was  a  widow,  and  my  brother  and  four  sisters 
were  all  younger  than  myself,  and  needed  my 
services  and  protection.  I  was  then  eighteen 
years  old,  and  felt  myself  a  man  in  all  things. 
Mr.  Crooks  said  the  company  could  not  spare 
me,  and  he  thought  I  could  serve  my  mother 
and  family  more  acceptably  by  remaining; 
told  me  that  he  had  corresponded  with  my 
mother,  and  when  last  at  Montreal  intended 
to  have  gone  to  Connecticut  to  see  her,  but 
had  not  the  time,  and  by  his  arguments  pre- 
vailed upon  me  to  remain. 

I  expressed  my  desire  to  again  go  out  with 
the  Illinois  "brigade,"  giving  my  reasons 
therefor;  and  these,  aided  by  Mr.  Deschamps' 
solicitations  (he  claiming  that  he  had  only 
consented  to  part  with  me  for  a  year,  expect- 
ing me  to  return  and  take  charge  of  the  post 
on  the  Illinois  River),  induced  Mr.  Crooks — 
though  reluctantly — to  give  his  consent  to  my 
going  out  with  my  old  friend  and  comrade, 
ii6 


<l5urtion  J>alton]eftan  IJufjfiarti 

In  due  course  of  time  our  "brigade"  started, 
the  twelve  boats  led  by  Mr.  Deschamps  and 
the  old  familiar  boat  song.  I  was  again  with 
my  old  companions,  all  of  whom  gave  me  a 
cordial  welcome.  Day  after  day  we  pursued 
our  voyage,  the  ever  monotonous  row,  row, 
being  varied  by  no  incidents  of  interest,  until 
we  reached  Chicago.  We  had  made  an  un- 
usually quick  trip,  having  been  delayed  by 
adverse  winds  but  two  or  three  days  on  the 
entire  journey.  Again  I  was  rejoiced  with  a 
home  in  Mr.  Kinzie's  family,  and  remained 
there  for  several  days,  until  the  "brigade" 
again  moved  for  the  Illinois  River. 

The  water  in  the  rivers  was  unusually  low 
this  season,  and  in  places  the  Desplaines  could 
be  crossed  on  foot  without  wetting  the  sole  of 
the  shoe;  or,  more  properly  speaking,  the 
skin  of  the  foot,  as  covering  was  out  of  fashion, 
or  had  not  come  in,  at  that  time. 

We  were  compelled  to  carry  our  goods  and 
effects  from  the  South  Branch  to  the  Des- 
plaines on  our  backs,  leaving  our  empty  boats 
to  pass  through  the  usual  channel  from  the 
South  Branch  to  Mud  Lake,  and  through  that 
to  the  West  End,  and  through  the  other  channel. 
Having  completed  the  portage  to  the  Des- 
plaines and  encountered  the  usual  fatigues  in 
descending  that  river,  without  unusual  delay 
or  accident  we  reached  Bureau  Station,  where 
I  had  passed  my  first  winter.  Mr.  Beebeauwas 
still  in  charge,  though  he  was  much  more  feeble 

"7 


€]Jc  ^utoBiograjJlJp  of 


than  when  I  last  saw  him,  nor  had  his  temper 
and  disposition  undergone  any  change  for  the 
better,  but  on  the  contrary  he  was  more  irri- 
table and  disagreeable,  if  this  was  possible. 
My  friend  Antoine  was  also  there  and  delight- 
ed to  see  me,  and  we  spent  many  hours 
together,  talking  over  old  times  and  recounting 
our  hunting  experience  of  the  winter  of  i8i8- 
19.  He  had  grown  to  manhood  and  was  fully 
able  to  perform  the  duties  and  endure  the 
hardships  of  a  voyageur,  in  which  capacity 
Mr.  Deschamps  engaged  him  for  that  post. 
He  was  greatly  disappointed  when  he  learned 
that  I  was  not  to  winter  with  them  but  was  to 
take  the  position  of  trader  at  a  new  post  fur- 
ther down  the  river;  he  applied  to  Mr.  Des- 
champs to  be  transferred  to  my  post,  but  this 
was  refused  him,  Mr.  Deschamps  stating  to  me 
that  he  feared  I  would  not  have  the  obedience 
from  him  that  my  position  required,  owing  to 
our  previous  intimate  relations  in  which  he  had 
been  both  my  companion  and  equal.  I  saw 
the  justice  of  this  and  acquiesced  in  his  deci- 
sion. Before  parting,  however,  Antoine  and 
I  took  a  day's  hunting  together,  tramping  over 
ground  which  had  become  so  familiar  two  years 
before,  and  recalling  many  pleasant  incidents 
of  those  happy  days- 
After  resting  a  few  days,  and  selecting  the 
goods  and  men  to  be  left  at  that  post,  we 
proceeded  on  our  way,  making  our  next  halt 
at  Fort  Clark  (Peoria),  where  we  found  several 
118 


families  had  located,  among  whom  were  Mr. 
Fulton,  the  first  pioneer  settler  at  that  point, 
who  still  resides  in  that  county;  a  Mr.  Bogar- 
dus,  brother  of  General  Bogardus,  of  New 
York,  a  highly  intelligent  gentleman,  and  his 
estimable  and  accomplished  wife. 

Two  miles  below,  at  a  point  now  known  as 
Wesley  City,  was  Mr.  Beason's  post,  and 
there  we  remained  about  one  week,  during 
which  time  I  went  almost  daily  to  the  fort. 

WOLF  STORIES. 

A  melancholy  incident  occurred  there  during 
the  winter.  On  the  river  bottom  opposite 
Beason's  post  were  a  half-dozen  or  more 
lodges  of  Pottawatomies.  An  aged  squaw, 
accompanied  by  a  young  granddaughter,  was 
returning  from  an  absence  from  the  camp,  and 
when  at  Kickapoo  Creek  they  were  attacked 
by  a  large  female  timber  wolf  and  her  cubs. 
The  little  girl  escaped,  and  running  home 
reported  to  her  brother,  who  immediately 
started  to  the  old  squaw's  rescue.  On  reach- 
ing the  place  he  found  the  wolves  had  killed 
his  grandmother  and  were  feasting  upon  her 
flesh.  Though  armed  only  with  a  tomahawk 
and  knife,  he  boldly  attacked  the  animals  and 
succeeded  in  driving  them  away  from  her  body, 
but  not  without  being  himself  badly  bitten, 
and,  indeed,  I  doubt  not  he  would  have 
departed  for  the  "happy  hunting  grounds" 
119 


€l)e  3luto&xograj)F)p  of 


by  the  same  route  his  grandmother  had  taken 
had  he  not  been  reinforced  by  his  friends,  who 
had  learned  of  his  peril. 

It  is  rarely  that  a  wolf  will  attack  a  human 
being,  unless  closely  pressed  or  famishing  with 
hunger.  I  remember  that  once  when  Noel 
Vasseur  and  myself  were  eating  our  lunch  at 
Blue  Island,  while  our  horses  were  grazing, 
a  wolf  came  so  close  to  us  that  Vasseur  toma- 
hawked him. 

Another  time,  Jacques  Jombeaux  and  myself 
had  camped  for  the  night,  and  before  lying 
down  I  went  to  look  after  my  horse,  which  I 
had  spanceled  on  the  prairie.  I  found  him 
feeding  quietly,  and  returning,  I  noticed  what 
I  supposed  to  be  an  Indian  dog  following  me. 
I  called  and  whistled  to  him,  but  he  paid  no 
attention  to  the  noise.  When  I  reached  the 
camp  I  told  Jacques  that  there  was  a  camp  of 
Indians  near,  as  I  had  been  followed  by  one  of 
their  dogs,  and  that  he  must  hang  up  the 
provisions.  He  hung  them  on  a  sapling  close 
by  our  camp  fire.  We  were  lying  with  our 
feet  close  to  the  fire  when  my  supposed  dog 
came  up  and  put  his  forefeet  on  the  sapling  in 
his  efforts  to  get  our  meat.  The  light  of  the 
fire  showed  him  to  be  a  prairie  wolf,  and  enabled 
Jacques  to  shoot  him  with  his  rifle. 

I  knew  of  an  Indian  who  was  treed  by  a 
pack  of  wolves,  and  there  kept  for  eighteen 
or  more  hours,  until  his  comrade,  becoming 
alarmed  at  his  absence,  found  and  relieved  him. 

120 


<«B>urt!on  ^alton^eftaH  i^ubBarti 

We  left  Beason's  and  proceeded  on  our  way 
to  other  stations  down  the  river.  Mr.  Des- 
champs  decided  to  establish  a  new  post  at  the 
mouth  of  Crooked  Creek,  and  to  locate  me  in 
charge.  We  soon  agreed  upon  the  spot  on 
which  to  build  my  house,  and  my  outfit  having 
been  unloaded  Mr.  Deschamps  proceeded  on 
his  way. 

We  first  constructed  a  pen  of  logs,  the  sides 
of  which  were  about  six  feet  high,  within  which 
was  packed  my  goods;  these  were  covered  with 
sails  and  tarpaulins.  Our  camp  was  made 
on  the  south  side  of  the  inclosure,  both  for 
convenience  and  the  better  protection  of  the 
goods.  These  arrangements  having  been  com- 
pleted we  proceeded  immediately  to  build  a 
good-sized  trading  house. 

Before  reaching  this  place  I  had  felt  symp- 
toms of  ague,  loss  of  appetite  with  slight  chills; 
still  I  managed  to  keep  up,  and  my  house- 
building progressed  so  well  that  by  the  time  of 
Deschamps'  return  it  was  up  and  the  store  part 
covered,  so  that  the  goods  could  be  moved 
into  it.  Mr.  Deschamps  thought  my  symp- 
toms denoted  bilious  fever  and  prescribed  for 
me  accordingly. 

My  fever  continued  to  increase,  and  I  be- 
came very  sick,  was  unable  to  sit  up,  and  daily 
grew  worse. 

Two  Frenchmen,  who  had  been  shooting 
geese  and  swans  at  Portage  de  Sioux,  came 
down  the  Illinois  River  in  a  large  pirogue,  on 

121 


€|je  ^utoiii00taj)jjp  of 


their  way  to  St.  Louis  to  market  their  game. 
Though  their  boat  was  heavily  laden,  by  prom- 
ising to  pay  for  the  game  they  would  be 
compelled  to  leave  to  make  room  for  me,  and 
also  to  pay  liberally  for  my  passage,  I  succeeded 
in  persuading  them  to  take  me  as  a  passenger 
to  St.  Louis,  where  I  felt  compelled  to  go  to 
consult  a  physician,  and  their  arrival  seemed 
providential. 

While  the  men  were  eating  I  made  prepara- 
tions for  my  departure .  Calling  my  interpreter, 
I  told  him  of  my  determination,  and  instructed 
him  that  should  I  fail  to  return  by  a  certain 
day  he  should  send  word  to  Mr.  Deschamps 
and  ask  for  orders.  My  men  went  to  work 
with  a  will  moving  and  repacking  the  game  so 
as  to  give  sufl&cient  room  for  me  in  the  boat 
without  leaving  any  part  of  the  load,  and  I 
was  carried  and  placed  in  the  boat,  in  as 
comfortable  a  position  as  could  be  found. 

The  wind  was  from  the  south,  and  the  river 
very  rough;  the  motion  of  the  boat  caused  me 
to  vomit  excessively  and  I  soon  became  un- 
conscious. The  men  carried  me  along  until 
they  came  to  a  settler's  cabin  near  the  bank  of 
the  river,  and  supposing  me  to  be  dying,  took 
me  ashore,  left  me  there,  and  pursued  their  jour- 
ney. I  do  not  know  how  long  I  was  unconscious, 
but  when  I  awoke  I  found  myself  in  bed, 
while  a  young  girl  was  sitting  by  fanning  me. 
She  jumped  up  and  called  her  mother,  who 
coming  in,  cautioned  me  not  to  get  excited,  gave 

122 


<iBurtion  J>alton^tan  i^uBbarti 

me  some  tea,  and  while  I  was  drinking  it  told 
me  where  I  was  and  how  I  came  there.  From 
that  time  I  improved  rapidly,  and  in  the  course 
of  a  week  or  ten  days  I  was  able  to  start  on 
foot  for  my  trading  house,  about  thirty-five 
miles  distant,  which  I  reached  in  two  days, 
much  to  the  joy  and  astonishment  of  my  men. 
I  cannot  conceive  why  I  have  lost  from  my 
memory  the  name  of  those  hospitable  people, 
who  took  me  into  their  house  and  nursed  me 
so  kindly,  but  so  it  is,  and  their  name  I  cannot 
remember.  I  never  saw  them  but  once  after- 
ward. 

I  found  my  house  was  nearly  completed.  I 
had  a  good  appetite,  and  increased  daily  in 
strength,  so  that  I  was  soon  able  to  hunt  on  the 
river  bottom,  ranging  two  or  three  miles  from 
the  house.  One  bright  November  morning  I 
started  out  for  a  turkey  hunt,  and  soon  came 
across  some  fresh  horse  tracks  which  I  sup- 
posed were  those  of  Indian  ponies,  and  gave 
them  no  further  thought;  but  at  a  little 
creek  I  saw  the  tracks  again,  and  in  a  muddy 
spot  I  noticed  the  fresh  impression  of  a  horse- 
shoe, and  so  followed  their  trail,  and  after 
about  a  mile  travel  came  up  with  the  riders 
and  found  them  to  be  Mr.  John  Wood  and 
Mr.  Tilden,  on  their  way  to  the  military  tract 
to  locate  soldiers'  land- warrants.  I  thought 
they  were  lost  (though  the  Governor  always 
denied  it),  as  they  were  not  in  the  direct  course, 
and  their  tracks  made  a  strange  circuit  for 
123 


€f)e  aiito]&io0rapl)p  of 


persons  knowing  their  whereabouts.  I  led 
them  to  my  house  and  prepared  for  them  the 
best  meal  in  my  power,  of  which  they  ate  very 
heartily  and  with  decided  relish.  Governor 
Wood  has  often  told  me  that  it  was  the  best 
meal  he  ever  ate.  I  am  quite  willing  to  be- 
lieve it  was  good,  and  flatter  myself  that  the 
cooking  I  did  in  those  days,  if  not  in  the  style 
of  a  French  cook,  was,  for  plain  food,  deserv- 
ing of  great  praise.  I  have  never  tasted  of 
any  roast  turkey  that  seemed  to  me  so  excel- 
lent as  those  fat  wild  ones  killed  and  prepared 
by  my  own  hands. 

I  used  to  hang  them  in  front  of  my  large 
fire  place  suspended  by  a  string,  and  gently 
turn  them  with  a  long  stick  until  they  were 
nicely  browned,  and  then  with  fat  raccoon  or 
bear  meat  boiled,  I  had  a  dinner  fit  for  a  king. 
My  new  found  friends  left  me  in  the  afternoon 
though  I  tried  hard  to  detain  them;  like  most 
of  the  enterprising  "Yankees"  of  those  early 
days  they  could  not  be  stayed.  Both  of  these 
gentlemen  located  in  Quincy,  Illinois,  became 
prominent  citizens,  and  finally  died  there. 
Mr.  Wood  was  at  one  time  Governor  of  the 
State  of  Illinois,  and  I  ever  considered  him  as 
one  of  my  warmest  friends. 

My  house  was  soon  completed  and  furnished 
with  floor,  three-legged  stools,  table,  and  bunks, 
all  made  of  puncheons.  It  was  lighted  by  a 
window  in  the  south  end,  made  of  two  sheets 
of  foolscap  paper  nicely  greased;  and  with  a 
124 


(Duttion  .^altottjE^ail  IptttitiarD 

fine  large  clay  chimney  that  would  take  in  a 
six-foot  log,  I  felt  that  the  cold  or  storms  of 
winter  could  have  no  terrors  for  me. 

I  was  now  fully  recovered  in  health,  and  all 
my  care  and  anxiety  was  for  the  success  of  the 
winter's  trade. 


ATTACKED  BY   AN   INDIAN.— ALEXIS  ST. 
MARTIN.— SLEEPING   BEAR. 

The  Indians  were  Kickapoos  and  Delawares, 
and  being  a  stranger  among  them,  I  was 
forced  to  depend  on  my  interpreter,  who  was 
well  acquainted  with  them,  to  know  whom  to 
trust. 

It  was  our  custom  to  give  the  Indian  hunters 
goods  on  credit,  in  the  fall  of  the  year,  so  that 
they  might  give  their  whole  time  to  the  hunt, 
and,  indeed,  it  would  have  been  difficult,  if  not 
impossible,  for  them  to  hunt  without  the  nec- 
essary clothing,  guns,  and  ammunition.  The 
conditions  of  this  credit  were  that  these  ad- 
vances should  be  paid  from  the  proceeds  of 
their  first  winter's  hunt,  but  should  they  fail 
to  pay,  after  having  devoted  all  their  furs  for 
the  purpose,  and  shown  a  disposition  to  act 
honestly,  the  balance  was  carried  over  to  the 
next  year,  but  this  balance  was  seldom  paid. 
The  debtors  reasoned  that,  having  appropriated 
the  entire  proceeds  of  their  season's  hunt  to 
the  liquidation  of  their  indebtedness,  it  was 
the  fault  of  the  Great  Spirit  that  they  had  not 
125 


€1)0  ^utofiiograpfjp  of 


been  able  to  pay  in  full,  and  so  they  considered 
the  debt  canceled.  We  were  very  careful 
who  we  trusted.  We  satisfied  ourselves 
first,  that  the  person's  intentions  were  honest, 
and  that  he  was  industrious  and  persevering; 
and,  second,  that  he  was  a  skilled  hunter  and 
trapper,  and  knew  where  to  find  game  in  abun- 
dance. If  he  lacked  in  these  qualifications  he 
was  deemed  unworthy  of  credit,  at  least  to  a 
large  amount. 

I  was  applied  to  for  credit  by  an  Indian 
who  my  interpreter  said  "never  paid,"  or  if 
he  paid  at  all,  it  was  only  a  portion  of  his  in- 
debtedness. I  accordingly  refused  him,  at 
which  he  was  greatly  angered  and  threatened 
revenge. 

One  morning  shortly  after,  I  was  sitting 
alone  before  the  fire  in  my  cabin,  on  a  three- 
legged  stool  made  of  puncheons,  reading  a  book, 
when  the  Indian  returned  and  stole  softly  into 
the  room,  and  up  behind  me,  with  his  toma- 
hawk raised  to  strike  me.  I  did  not  hear 
him,  but  saw  his  shadow,  and  looking  up 
quickly  saw  him,  and  threw  up  my  left  arm 
just  in  time  to  arrest  the  blow.  The  handle 
of  the  tomahawk  striking  my  arm,  it  was 
thrown  from  his  hand  and  fell  on  the  floor 
close  to  the  fire-place.  The  corner  of  the 
blade  cut  through  my  cap  and  into  my  fore- 
head— the  mark  of  which  I  still  carry — while 
my  arm  was  temporarily  paralyzed  from  the 
blow.  I  sprang  to  my  feet  just  as  he  reached 
126 


<{3urtion  ^aftonjeftall  ]^uBbarli 

to  his  belt  to  draw  a  knife,  and  throwing  my 
arms  around  his  body,  grasped  my  left  wrist 
with  my  right  hand,  and  held  him  so  firmly  that 
he  could  not  draw  his  knife.  I  allowed  him 
to  throw  me  down  on  the  floor,  and  roll  me 
over  and  over  in  his  exertions  to  liberate  him- 
self and  reach  his  knife,  while  I  made  no 
exertions  except  to  keep  my  grip.  I  bled 
profusely  from  the  wound  on  my  forehead,  and 
my  eyes  were  frequently  blinded  by  the  blood, 
which  I  wiped  off  as  well  as  I  could  on  his 
naked  body.  It  was  fully  five  minutes  be- 
fore my  arm  began  to  recover  sensitiveness, 
and  a  much  longer  time  before  I  recovered  its 
full  use. 

My  grasp  was  weakening,  yet  I  clung  on 
afraid  to  trust  to  my  lame  arm.  My  opponent 
was  breathing  very  heavily,  and  I  knew  he  was 
exhausting  his  strength  in  his  efforts  to  rid 
himself  of  my  embrace,  while  I  was  saving 
mine.  When  my  arm  had  sufficiently  recov- 
ered, and  we  had  rolled  up  to  where  the  stool 
lay,  I  let  go  of  him,  and  seizing  the  stool  struck 
him  a  stunning  blow  upon  the  head,  which  I 
followed  up  with  others  on  his  head  and  face, 
until  he  showed  no  further  signs  of  hfe,  when 
I  seized  him  by  his  long  hair  and  dragged  him 
out  of  doors,  whooping  for  my  men,  who  soon 
made  their  appearance.  Just  then  his  squaws 
appeared  on  the  scene.  He  had  come  on  his 
pony,  telling  them  he  was  going  to  kill  Hub- 
bard, and  they  had  followed  on  as  rapidly  as 
127 


€l&e  ^ntofiiograjjl^p  of 


they  could  on  foot.  They  bathed  his  head 
with  cold  water,  and,  greatly  to  my  relief,  soon 
restored  him  to  consciousness.  I  reflected 
that  I  had  punished  him  too  severely,  and 
regretted  that  I  had  done  more  than  to  strike 
him  the  first  blow  and  then  disarm  him.  My 
men  were  greatly  alarmed,  and  especially  so 
was  my  interpreter,  whom  I  sent  to  the  chief 
of  the  band  to  explain  the  case. 

The  chief  returned  with  my  man  and  blamed 
me  for  injuring  him  so  severely,  thinking  it 
would  result  in  his  death.  However,  he  used 
his  influence  with  the  band  in  my  favor,  telling 
them  the  goods  were  mine,  and  that  I  had 
a  perfect  right  to  refuse  to  sell  them  on  credit 
and  to  defend  myself  when  attacked,  and  they 
soon  separated  for  their  winter  hunting 
grounds,  much  to  my  relief.  The  injured 
Indian  did  not  recover  so  as  to  do  any  hunting 
that  winter,  and  occasionally  sent  me  a  message 
demanding  pay  for  his  injuries,  which  I  posi- 
tively refused,  much  to  the  dissatisfaction  of 
my  confidential  man. 

The  winter  passed  and  we  were  ready  to 
break  up,  daily  expecting  orders  from  Mr. 
Deschamps  to  start  on  the  return  trip  to 
Mackinaw.  The  Indians  had  returned  from 
their  hunting  grounds  and  were  camped  some 
five  or  six  miles  from  us.  They  had  mostly 
paid  up,  though  the  winter  had  not  been  a  suc- 
cessful one  for  them. 

The  chief  was  a  young  man,  and  had  become 
128 


very  friendly  to  me.  He  advised  me  to  give 
presents  to  the  Indian  I  had  injured;  but  I  still 
persisted  in  my  refusal,  determined  to  risk  the 
consequences  rather  than  to  pay  a  man  for 
attempting  to  kill  me.  This  was  reported 
to  my  enemy,  who  had  fully  recovered  his 
strength,  and  exasperated  him  still  further. 
One  morning  he  came  with  two  of  his  friends, 
all  with  blackened  faces,  a  token  of  war,  and 
demanded  of  me  pay  for  his  injuries.  I  again 
refused,  telling  him  that  it  was  his  own  fault; 
that  he  came  upon  me  stealthily,  and  would 
have  killed  me  had  I  not  discovered  him  just 
in  time  to  save  myself.  While  thus  talking  I 
heard  the  tramp  of  horses,  caused  by  the  arri- 
val of  the  chief  and  others  of  the  band,  who, 
hearing  of  his  intention  to  seek  revenge,  had 
hastened  to  try  to  effect  a  friendly  arrange- 
ment. 

On  entering  I  stated  to  the  chief  the  demand 
made  upon  me,  and  my  refusal,  and  that  now 
he  and  his  friends  had  come  like  men,  and  not 
like  squaws,  and  that  this  time  I  was  prepared 
for  them. 

"I  came,"  I  said,  "among  you  with  goods 
for  your  accommodation;  trade  was  my  object, 
and  I  have  as  much  right  to  do  as  I  please 
with  my  goods  as  you  have  with  the  pony  you 
ride.  You  would  not  allow  any  one  to  take 
him  without  your  consent;  and,  should  any  one 
attempt  to  take  him  by  force,  would  you  not 
defend  yourself?  Or  would  you,  hke  a  coward, 
129 


€1^0  ^utoBiograpljp  of 


give  him  up?  Say,  would  you?"  "No,"  he 
replied.  "Neither  did  I,  nor  will  I.  I  am 
very  sorry  for  what  I  did — I  mean,  the  result, 
causing  the  loss  of  his  winter's  hunt;  but  I 
will  not  pay  him  for  it."  The  chief  said  to 
them,  "The  trader  is  right;  the  goods  were  his; 
he  would  not  trust  because  our  friend  (point- 
ing to  the  interpreter)  said  you  never  paid. 
We  all  know  that  is  true."  After  a  moment 
of  silence  the  Indian  extended  his  hand  to  me, 
which  I  took.  "Now,"  I  said,  "we  are 
friends,  and  I  wish  to  give  you  some  evidence 
of  my  friendship,  not  to  pay  you,  but  only  as  a 
token  of  my  good  will. ' '  We  all  had  a  smoke, 
and  I  presented  him  with  articles  he  most 
needed,  much  to  his  surprise.  And  so  that 
diflSculty  was  ended,  much  to  the  satisfaction 
of  my  men,  who  were  fearful  that  great  trouble 
would  result  from  it. 

About  ten  days  after  the  above  settlement  I 
received  orders  from  Mr.  Deschamps  to  vacate 
my  post  and  join  the  "brigade"  at  Season's 
post.  There  we  remained  a  week  or  more, 
during  which  time  I  formed  an  intimate 
acquaintance  with  the  settlers  at  Peoria. 

About  the  first  of  April  we  resumed  our 
journey  toward  Mackinaw,  proceeding  leisure- 
ly, and  reaching  Chicago  in  due  season,  where, 
as  usual,  I  found  a  warm  welcome  from  the 
Kinzie  family  and  officers  of  the  fort.  A  week 
or  ten  days  was  thus  joyfully  spent,  and  I 
deeply  regretted  the  day  of  our  departure. 
130 


45urtion  J>aIton!Gftan  J^uBBarD 

Coasting,  as  before,  the  east  shore  of  Lake 
Michigan,  we  arrived  at  Mackinaw  early  in 
June.  On  the  sixth  of  that  month  I  was 
present  when  Alexis  St.  Martin  was  shot,  and 
am  probably  the  only  living  person  who  wit- 
nessed the  accident. 

The  late  Major  John  H.  Kinzie  had  charge 
of  the  American  Fur  Company's  retail  store 
at  Michilimackinac.  I  was  in  the  ^abit  of 
assisting  him  occasionally  when  a  press  of 
customers  needed  extra  clerks.  The  store 
comprised  the  ground  floor  near  the  foot  of 
Fort  Hill,  on  the  corner  of  the  street  and  the 
road  leading  up  to  the  fort.  The  rear  part  of 
the  store  was  underground,  built  of  stone, 
which  is  still  standing. 

This  St.  Martin  was  at  the  time  one  of  the 
American  Fur  Company's  engagees,  who,  with 
quite  a  number  of  others,  was  in  the  store. 
One  of  the  party  was  holding  a  shot-gun  (not 
a  musket),  which  was  accidentally  discharged, 
the  whole  charge  entering  St.  Martin's  body. 
The  muzzle  was  not  over  three  feet  from  him — 
I  think  not  over  two.  The  wadding  entered, 
as  well  as  pieces  of  his  clothing;  his  shirt  took 
fire;  he  fell,  as  we  supposed,  dead. 

Dr.  Beaumont,  the  surgeon  of  the  fort,  was 
immediately  sent  for,  and  reached  the  wounded 
man  within  a  very  short  time  —  probably  three 
minutes.  We  had  just  got  him  on  a  cot  and 
were  taking  off  some  of  his  clothing. 

After  Dr.  Beaumont  had  extracted  part  of 

131 


€l)c  ^ntoBiograpl^p  of 


the  shot,  pieces  of  clothing,  and  dressed  his 
wound  carefully — Robert  Stewart  and  others 
assisting — he  left  him,  remarking,  "The  man 
can't  live  thirty-six  hours;  I  will  come  and  see 
him  bye  and  bye."  In  two  or  three  hours  he 
visited  him  again,  expressing  surprise  at  finding 
him  doing  better  than  he  anticipated. 

The  next  day,  I  think,  he  resolved  on  a 
course  *f  treatment,  and  brought  down  his 
instruments,  getting  out  more  shot  and  cloth- 
ing, cutting  off  ragged  ends  of  the  wound,  and 
made  frequent  visits,  seeming  very  much 
interested,  informing  Mr.  Stewart  in  my  pres- 
ence that  he  thought  he  could  save  him. 

As  soon  as  the  man  could  be  moved  he  was 
taken  to  the  fort  hospital,  where  Dr.  Beaumont 
could  give  him  better  attention.  About  this 
time,  if  I  am  not  greatly  mistaken,  the  doc- 
tor announced  that  he  was  treating  his  patient 
with  a  view  to  experimenting  on  his  stom- 
ach, being  satisfied  of  his  recovery.  You  know 
the  result. 

I  knew  Dr.  Beaumont  very  well.  The 
experiment  of  introducing  food  into  the 
stomach  through  the  orifice  purposely  kept 
open  and  healed  with  that  object,  was  con- 
ceived by  the  doctor  very  soon  after  the  first 
examination. 

My   duties   in    the   assorting   and   packing 

warehouse  that  summer  gave  me  but  little  time 

for  recreation.     In  fact,  until  after  six  o'clock 

in  the  evening,  I  had  no  time  to  myself,  and 

132 


4B>urlion  J>altoti^tafl  i^uBIiarti 

I  frequently  worked  until  midnight.  Sunday 
afternoon  was  the  only  time  at  which  I  felt 
fully  at  leisure  to  visit  my  friends,  and  that  was 
passed  either  at  Mrs.  Fisher's,  Mrs.  La  From- 
boise's,  Mrs.  Mitchell's,  Mr.  Davenport's  or 
Mr.  Dousman's,  at  any  of  which  places  I 
was  ever  a  welcome  visitor.  Thus  was 
completed  the  fourth  year  of  my  life  as  an 
Indian  trader. 

Early  in  the  fall  I  left  Mackinaw  in  the 
usual  way  for  my  fifth  winter  in  the  Indian 
country.  By  request  of  Mr.  Crooks  we  invited 
a  gentleman  to  accompany  us,  who  desired  to 
visit  Southern  Illinois.  He  was  a  gentleman 
of  intelligence;  in  figure,  tall  and  gaunt,  and 
possessed  of  one  of  those  inquisitive  minds 
which  ever  denotes  the  genuine  "Yankee." 
He  was  continually  asking  questions  and 
wanting  an  explanation  of  everything  he  saw  or 
heard,  and  did  not  hesitate  to  pry  into  our  pri- 
vate affairs  and  investigate  our  personal  charac- 
teristics. He  was  exceedingly  awkward  in  his 
positions  in  the  boat  and  camp,  and  could 
never  accustom  himself  to  sitting  "tailor 
fashion."  His  limbs  and  body  were  in  a  con- 
tinuous change  of  "sprawl,"  and  at  times 
interfering  with  the  motions  of  the  oarsmen 
and  forcing  an  involuntary  "sacre"  from  the 
voyageurs,  who  were  proverbial  for  politeness 
and  natural  grace.  To  them  he  became  alter- 
nately an  amusement  and  an  annoyance,  and  as 
he  could  not  understand  their  language,  numer- 

133 


€Jje  ^utoBiograpfjp  of 


ous  jokes  were  indulged  in  at  his  expense, 
and  he  was  nicknamed  "La  Beauts." 

At  one  time  we  were  caught  in  a  wind-storm 
which  compelled  us  to  land  and  draw  our  boats 
up  on  the  beach.  On  such  occasions  it  was 
customary  for  the  men  to  carry  the  Bourgeois 
ashore  on  their  back.  Our  guest  straddled  the 
shoulders  of  one  of  the  men,  who  purposely 
fell,  taking  care  that  his  rider  should  fall  under 
him  and  become  completely  submerged,  at  the 
same  time  exclaiming,  ' '  Mon  Dieu,  monsieur, 
excusez  moi,"  and  quickly  helping  him  to  his 
feet  continued  his  apologies.  Seeing  our 
friend  completely  drenched,  the  water  dripping 
from  his  clothing,  and  his  hat  floating  off  on 
the  waves  while  the  voyageur  seemed  so  sincere 
in  his  apologies,  was  too  much  for  our  silent 
endurance,  and  we  all  broke  out  into  peals  of 
laughter,  in  which  our  dripping  passenger 
heartily  joined.  His  company  was  agreeable 
to  all  save  the  voyageurs  and  he  was  always 
invited  to  choose  which  boat  he  preferred  to 
ride  in  for  the  day. 

We  reached  Calf  River  without  any  particu- 
lar incident,  where  we  camped,  and  on  the 
following  morning  I  invited  our  friend  to  walk 
with  me  to  the  top  of  "Sleeping  Bear,"  and 
join  the  boats  when  they  reached  its  base. 
"Sleeping  Bear  "  was  a  high  bluff,  six  or  eight 
hundred  feet  above  the  lake.  With  the  excep- 
tion of  a  small  clump  of  trees,  its  top  was  a 
naked  plain  of  sand  without  vegetation  of  any 

134 


kind.  Its  lake  front  was  very  steep,  and  it  was 
with  great  difficulty  and  exertion  that  it  could 
be  ascended;  the  loose  sand  into  which  one 
sank  several  inches  at  each  step,  slid  downward 
carrying  one  with  it,  so  that  progress  was  slow 
and  tedious.  To  walk  down  was  impossible 
unless  one  went  backward,  and  in  a  stooping 
posture.  It  was  real  sport  to  go  down  by 
quick  successive  jumps,  and  fortunate  was  the 
individual  who  could  accomplish  it  without 
losing  his  balance,  falling  over  and  rolling  to 
the  bottom,  where  he  arrived  with  mouth,  nose, 
and  ears  filled  with  the  fine  shifting  sand, 
though  there  was  little  or  no  danger  of  any- 
thing more  serious. 

We  reached  the  summit,  and  after  viewing 
the  lake  and  country,  and  our  boats  having 
arrived  at  the  base,  I  said  to  my  friend,  "We 
must  descend  by  jumps;  take  as  long  leaps  as 
you  can,  and  don't  stop;  follow  me";  and 
with  a  loud  "whoop"  to  attract  the  attention 
of  the  boatmen,  I  went  down  by  quick  jumps, 
but  before  reaching  the  bottom  heard  the 
shouts  of  the  voyageurs,  and  though  I  could 
not  look  back,  I  knew  full  well  the  cause. 
When  I  had  arrived  at  the  bottom,  I  looked  back 
and  saw  my  companion  struggling  and  rolling, 
while  the  sand  flew  in  every  direction.  He 
landed  close  to  my  feet  pale  and  frightened,  but 
otherwise  unharmed.  The  men  screamed  with 
laughter,  much,  as  I  thought,  to  the  annoy- 
ance of  our  passenger,  though  he  made  no 

135 


€{)e  ^utobiograpljp  of 


complaint,  and  having  been  brushed  off, 
took  his  seat  in  the  boat,  and  we  proceeded  on 
our  way. 

This  incident  served  for  a  standing  joke, 
and  many  times  was  the  laughter  renewed 
when  the  ludicrous  affair  was  again  presented 
to  our  minds.  Although  we  had  enjoyed  our- 
selves so  much  at  his  expense,  we  learned  to 
like  him  for  his  many  good  qualities,  and  when 
we  parted  with  him  at  Peoria,  it  was  with 
many  and  sincere  regrets. 

Our  trip  was  a  tedious  one,  we  being  kept 
many  days  in  camp  by  heavy  adverse  winds. 
We  were  nearly  a  month  in  reaching  Chicago, 
where,  as  usual,  I  was  welcomed  by  my  friends, 
the  Kinzies,  who,  with  Dr.  Wolcott,  rendered 
me  many  kind  services. 

At  Chicago  I  found  Pierre  Chouteau,  Jr., 
of  St.  Louis,  whose  acquaintance  I  had  formed 
several  years  before,  and  who  now  proposed 
that  I  should  enter  their  employ  at  the  expira- 
tion of  my  engagement  with  the  American 
Fur  Company;  during  my  two  weeks' 
stay  we  became  very  intimate.  The  officers 
of  the  fort  were  good  companions,  and  I 
passed  much  of  my  time  with  them,  and 
very  pleasantly,  and  much  regretted  the  time 
of  parting. 

We  encountered  the  usual  trials  and  hard- 
ships between  Chicago  and  Starved  Rock,  and 
in  due  season  arrived  at  Bureau  Post,  where  I 
had  passed  my  first  winter,  and  Mr.  Beebeau 
136 


OButtion  ^alton$^n  I^ufibarti 

having  died  since  our  departure  the  previous 
spring,  I  was  placed  in  charge. 

An  opposition  trader  named  Antoine  Bour- 
bonais,  who  was  suppUed  with  goods  from  St. 
Louis,  had  located  there.  He  was  a  large, 
portly  man,  and  for  one  of  his  years,  was  very 
energetic,  and  was  an  old,  experienced  trader. 
Mr.  Deschamps  told  me  of  his  virtues  and  fail- 
ings, warned  me  of  his  tricks,  and  cautioned 
me  as  to  my  intercourse  with  him.  My  old 
Indian  friends,  Wa-ba  and  Shaub-e-nee,  were 
also  here  to  welcome  me. 

It  was  late  in  the  season  when  we  arrived, 
and  Bourbonais  had  already  been  located  for 
more  than  a  month,  and  in  him  I  found  a 
strong  competitor.  He  was  possessed  of  a 
"foxy"  sharpness,  was  fond  of  his  cups,  and 
when  under  their  influence,  inclined  to  be 
quarrelsome.  I  was  as  friendly  toward  him  as 
could  be  expected,  and  while  we  treated  each 
other  with  respect,  we  watched  each  other 
closely,  each  striving  to  supply  the  best  hunt- 
ers with  their  winter  outfits,  and  in  this  we 
exercised  all  the  secresy  and  strategy  in 
our  power;  but  after  the  Indians  had  re- 
ceived their  supplies  and  departed  to  their 
hunting  grounds,  our  intercourse  was  very 
friendly. 

The  time  soon  arrived  when  we  were  to  visit 

the  camps  of  the  Indians  in  the  interior  and 

endeavor   to    sdcure   their   furs,  collect   the 

amounts  with  which  they  had  been  credited, 

137 


€l^e  ^utobiograpljp  of 


and  sell  to  them  the  goods  which  we  carried 
with  us.  Bourbonais  had  five  or  six  horses, 
while  I  had  none,  which  of  course  gave  him  a 
great  advantage,  as  he  could  pack  his  goods 
onto  the  horses,  and  return  with  his  furs  in  the 
same  manner,  while  I  depended  on  the  backs 
of  my  men. 

With  a  light  load,  my  men  could  travel  as 
fast  as  the  horses,  that  depended  for  their 
subsistence  on  foraging  on  the  half-dead  grass 
of  the  bottom  lands. 

To  know  when  and  where  an  expedition  was 
to  go  was  very  necessary,  and  every  strategy 
was  resorted  to,  and  considered  perfectly  fair, 
to  conceal  these  facts  from  each  other.  As  a 
consequence,  we  watched  each  other  con- 
stantly, sometimes  quarreled,  though  never 
coming  to  blows,  quickly  becoming  friendly 
again,  and  frequently  telling  how  one  had  out- 
witted the  other  in  the  course  of  trade.  We 
both  had  a  laborious  and  exciting  winter, 
though  neither  cut  the  prices  on  leading 
articles. 

At  one  time,  I  learned  from  an  Indian  that 
Bourbonais  was  packing  up  some  bales  of 
goods,  and  we  had  noticed  that  he  had  gathered 
his  horses  in  from  their  feeding  grounds  osten- 
sibly to  salt  them,  all  of  which  led  me  to 
suspect  that  an  expedition  was  being  fitted  out, 
and  I  detailed  a  man  to  watch.  Just  before 
daylight,  my  man  reported  that  two  horses 
were  loaded  with  goods  and  another  sad- 
138 


oBurtion  ^alton^H  I^uiiBatti 

died,  which  convinced  me  that  Bourbonais 
was  himself  going,  as  he  usually  rode,  be- 
ing too  clumsy  to  walk.  To  ascertain  where 
they  were  going,  I  hired  an  Indian,  who  hap- 
pened to  be  at  my  house,  to  follow  at  a  dis- 
tance, pretending  to  hunt,  until  they  should 
leave  the  timber  and  take  their  course  over 
the  prairie. 

In  the  meanwhile,  I  prepared  three  bales  of 
goods,  of  twenty-five  pounds  each,  and  detailed 
three  of  my  men  to  carry  them,  giving  Noel 
Vasseur  charge  of  the  expedition,  with  instruc- 
tions to  take  the  track  and  overtake  Bourbo- 
nais that  day,  and,  if  possible,  pass  him 
without  being  seen;  but  if  unable  to  do  that, 
to  camp  with  him  for  the  night.  The  Indian 
returning,  reported  the  course  the  expedition 
had  taken,  and  we  then  knew  that  they  were 
bound  for  one  of  two  hunting  bands,  but  which 
one  we  could  not  tell. 

Vasseur  started  with  his  men  and  soon  came 
in  sight  of  Bourbonais  and  his  party,  but  being 
on  the  open  prairie  could  not  pass  them  with- 
out being  noticed,  and  so  decided  to  overtake 
them  by  dark,  and  camp  with  or  near  them. 
Bourbonais,  finding  his  secret  discovered,  ex- 
tended his  usual  hospitality  to  Vasseur  and 
party,  and  after  they  had  finished  their  sup- 
pers, offered  them  a  dram,  which  was  gladly 
accepted.  Vasseur  and  he  chatted  and  drank, 
until  by  daylight  the  old  man  was  dead  drunk. 
Vasseur  had  gained  a  knowledge  of  their  desti- 

"39 


€lje  ^utobiograpf)p  of 


nation,  and  with  his  companions  started  for 
the  Indian  camps,  knowing  full  well  that  Bour- 
bonais  could  not  get  sobered  up  and  catch  his 
horses  on  the  range  in  time  to  overtake  them. 
By  hard  marching  Vasseur  found  the  camp, 
collected  some  of  the  debts,  and  bought  all 
the  surplus  furs  and  peltries  by  the  time  Bour- 
bonais  reached  the  camp.  The  old  man  was 
much  mortified  and  angered  when  he  discovered 
how  he  had  been  outwitted,  but  soon  got 
over  it,  and  together  he  and  Vasseur,  visited 
the  other  band,  collected  their  credits,  and 
returned  home.  In  this  manner  the  winter 
was  passed. 

On  Mr.  Deschamps'  return  he  bought  Bour- 
bonais'  furs,  engaged  him  in  the  service  of  the 
American  Fur  Company,  and  he  was  afterwards 
stationed  at  Kankakee,  where  he  died.  Mr. 
Deschamps  was  well  satisfied  with  the  result 
of  my  winter's  trade,  it  being  much  better  than 
he  had  anticipated.  The  season  had  been  an 
unusually  good  one,  and  we  had  accumulated 
more  furs  and  peltries  than  our  boats  could 
carry  up  the  Desplaines  River,  and  I  was  accord- 
ingly despatched  with  four  boat  loads  to  Chi- 
cago; these  I  stored  with  Mr.  John  Crafts, 
and  returned  to  the  "brigade,"  when  we  all 
moved  forward  on  our  annual  return  to  Macki- 
naw. A  portion  of  our  furs  were  shipped 
from  Chicago,  for  the  first  time,  in  a  small 
schooner  which  had  brought  supplies  for  the 
garrison. 

140 


<Durtion  J^alton^n  I^ubdarti 


PA-PA-MA-TA-BE.— FROM  ST.  JOSEPH  TO 
THE  KANKAKEE.— "HUBBARD'S  TRAIL." 
—UNDER  THE  ICE.— PEORIA  AND  ST. 
LOUIS. 

In  the  month  of  March  (1823),  I  had  occa- 
sion to  go  alone  to  see  some  Indians  who  were 
camped  at  ' '  Big  Woods, ' '  on  Fox  River,  in 
Du  Page  County,  west  of  Chicago. 

After  I  had  transacted  my  business  with 
them,  and  the  evening  before  my  return  home, 
an  Indian  who  belonged  to  another  band, 
which  was  camped  about  ten  miles  distant, 
came  into  the  wigwam  where  I  was,  and  said 
he  was  going  to  my  trading  house.  I  gave 
him  some  supper,  and  told  him  I  should  start 
in  the  morning  and  that  he  could  accompany 
me,  to  which  he  assented.  We  started  in  the 
morning  as  early  as  we  could  see  to  travel,  and 
found  the  ground  soft  and  muddy,  and  the 
walking  hard  and  tedious,  but  I  noticed  that 
my  companion  walked  very  fast. 

About  noon  he  stopped  to  smoke,  but  hav- 
ing made  up  my  mind  that  he  wanted  to  race, 
I  kept  on  as  fast  as  possible  and  got  a  long 
distance  ahead  of  him. 

When  I  reached  the  Illinois  River  above 
Hennepin,  and  opposite  my  trading  house,  I 
discovered  that  the  canoe  which  I  had  left  there 
had  been  stolen.  The  bottom  lands  were  over- 
flowed from  the  river  to  the  bluffs.  I  finally 
got  upon  a  log,  and  by  pulling  on  the  bushes 
141 


€ljc  ^utoliiograpl^p  of 


and  pushing  with  a  stick,  managed  to  propel 
it  to  the  bank  of  the  river. 

I  shouted  to  my  men,  and  waited  a  long 
time  for  them  to  answer,  but  receiving  no 
response,  I  jumped  in  and  swam  across,  reach- 
ing my  house  about  dark. 

The  following  morning  I  sent  my  men  back 
across  the  river  to  look  for  the  Indian;  they 
found  him  with  a  party  of  others  on  horseback, 
very  much  chagrined  and  disappointed  at  his 
defeat.  I  then  learned  that  the  band  which 
I  had  visited  had  made  a  wager  with  the  band 
to  which  my  companion  of  the  day  before 
belonged  that  1  could  outwalk  any  one  they 
could  produce,  and  they  had  planned  the  race 
without  intending  that  I  should  know  of  it. 

The  distance  walked  that  day  is  seventy-five 
miles,  in  a  direct  line,  according  to  the  pres- 
ent survey.  I  suffered  no  inconvenience 
from  it,  though  the  Indian  was  very  lame  for  a 
day  or  so. 

Some  have  doubted  that  I  could  have  walked 
so  great  a  distance,  but  I  was  then  young  and 
in  my  prime,  and  had  long  had  the  reputation 
among  the  Indians  of  being  a  very  rapid 
traveler,  and  had,  in  consequence,  been  named 
by  them  Pa-pa-ma-ta-be, ' '  The  Swift  Walker. ' ' 

It  was  a  well-known  fact,  at  that  time,  that 
Pierre  Le  Claire,  who  carried  the  news  of 
the  war  of  1812,  was  sent  by  Major  Robert 
Forsythe  to  his  uncle,  Mr.  John  Kinzie,  at 
Chicago,  and  that  he  walked  from  the  mouth 
142 


of  St.  Joseph  River  around  Lake  Michigan  to 
Chicago,  a  distance  of  ninety  miles,  in  one 
continuous  walk. 

He  arrived  at  Mr.  Kinzie's,  ate  his  supper, 
and  crossed  over  the  river  to  report  to  the 
officers  of  Fort  Dearborn,  before  nine  o'clock 
at  night,  having  started  before  daylight  froro 
St.  Joseph  River. 


We  made  our  usual  stay  in  Chicago,  I 
among  my  good  friends,  and  without  incident 
worthy  of  note,  arrived  in  due  season  at 
Mackinaw.  I  was  placed  in  entire  charge  of 
the  receiving  of  furs,  assorting  and  packing 
them  for  shipment.  It  was  a  full  two  months' 
work,  of  hard,  fatiguing  duty.  All  the  furred 
skins,  except  muskrats  and  wolves,  had  each 
to  pass  my  inspection,  and  when  examined, 
all  the  finer,  fancy  furs,  were  to  be  assorted  as 
to  shades  of  color,  as  well  as  to  fineness  of  fur. 
I  was  furnished  with  assistants  who,  after  I  had 
assorted  the  furs,  counted  and  delivered  them 
to  the  packers  to  press,  tie,  mark,  and  store, 
ready  for  shipment,  one  hundred  voyageursheing 
detailed  for  this  duty.  The  roll  was  called  regu- 
larly at  six  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  with  the 
exception  of  one  hour's  intermission  at  noon, 
our  labors  were  incessant  until  six  at  night. 

After  the  day's  labor  was  ended,  I  was 
required  to  make  up  an  account  showing  the 
total  of  that  day's  work.  The  statement  for 
each  outfit  was  kept  separate  on  my  packing- 

143 


€{)e  ^utoBiograp^P  <Jf 


house  book,  from  which  it  was  drawn  off  by 
myself  or  one  of  my  assistants,  and  filed  with 
the  book-keeper  in  the  general  office. 

Complaints  were  frequently  made  that  I 
assorted  too  closely,  and  not  unfrequently  Mr. 
Stewart  would  himself  re-assort,  with  the 
manager  of  the  "  brigade,"  who  was  interested 
in  making  his  returns  appear  as  large  as 
possible,  but  usually  my  assorting  was  ap- 
proved. I  made  it  an  invariable  rule  never  to 
open  and  re-assort  a  pack. 

The  different  outfits  were  required  to  fur- 
nish me  a  list  of  their  packs,  their  contents,  and 
number  of  skins  unassorted.  One  of  my 
assistants  opened  each  pack  and  counted  the 
skins,  and  if  found  to  be  short  it  was  his  duty 
to  notify  the  chief  of  the  "outfit"  or  his  rep- 
resentative, who  was  usually  present,  in  order 
that  his  count  might  be  corrected,  and  my 
returns  when  made  agree  with  his,  and  errors 
and  dissatisfaction  be  thus  prevented. 

I  was  glad  to  reach  the  close  of  this  summer's 
duties.  It  was  very  fatiguing  work  to  stoop 
over  and  assort  from  morning  until  night.  I 
had  no  time  for  rest  or  recreation  until  the 
last  skin  was  in  pack  ready  for  shipment. 

The  packs  were  very  neatly  put  up  in  frames, 
nearly  square  in  form,  and  intended  to  weigh 
about  one  hundred  pounds  each.  It  required 
much  practice  before  the  men  selected  for  that 
purpose  became  experts.  The  skins  must  be 
placed  in  proper  positions,  evenly  distributed, 
144 


so  as  to  make  the  pack  press  equally,  the  ends 
built  up  straight,  so  as  to  show  no  depressions 
or  elongations,  and  a  failure  in  either  of  these 
particulars  necessitated  repacking. 

The  different  kinds  of  skins  were  packed  in 
different  ways,  each  kind  having  its  own  pecu- 
liar manner  of  folding,  while  all  packs  were 
required  to  be  of  the  same  size;  and  when 
taken  from  the  press,  they  resembled  huge 
reams  of  paper,  so  even  and  uniform  were  the 
ends  and  sides.  We  used  screw  presses, 
worked  by  hand,  and  if  a  pack  came  from  the 
press  without  filling  all  the  requirements,  it 
was  repacked  and  repressed.  Each  pack  was 
then  numbered,  and  an  invoice  of  its  contents 
made,  which  received  the  same  number. 

Adjoining  the  warehouse  was  a  large  yard, 
into  which  the  packs  were  received  when 
brought  from  the  Indian  country  and  in  which 
they  were  opened.  Each  skin  was  thoroughly 
beaten  to  rid  it  of  bugs  and  dust,  and  if  damp 
it  was  dried,  and  then  carried  into  the  ware- 
house for  assorting,  counting,  and  packing. 
About  the  middle  of  August  my  work  was 
completed,  and  I  was  at  liberty  to  use  my  time 
as  I  chose.  I  employed  it  in  visiting  my 
friends,  and  thus  improved  it  to  the  last  mo- 
ment. Again  we  were  ready  to  depart  on  our 
monotonous  lake  voyage,  coasting  as  usual 
the  east  shore  of  Lake  Michigan,  and  meeting 
with  no  incident  worthy  of  mention  until  we 
reached  St.  Joseph,  where  we  were  detained 

145 


€1^0  ^utobiograjpjjp  of 


for  several  days  by  head  winds.  My  destina- 
tion had  been  decided  by  Mr.  Deschamps  to 
be  the  Iroquois  country.  We  knew  that  it 
was  but  a  short  distance  from  a  bend  of  the 
St.  Joseph  River  to  the  Kankakee  River,  and 
I  determined  to  endeavor  to  pass  my  boats  and 
goods  overland  to  the  Kankakee,  and  thus 
save  the  remainder  of  the  journey  to  Chicago, 
as  well  as  the  delays  and  hardships  of  the  old 
route  through  Mud  Lake  and  the  Desplaines. 
From  Mr.  Burnett,  who  lived  a  little  more 
than  a  mile  from  where  we  were  then  camped, 
I  learned  that  the  Indians  near  Bartrand  trad- 
ing house  had  ponies  on  which  my  goods  could 
be  packed,  and  he  thought  the  Indians  would 
also  undertake  to  pass  my  boats  across,  sug- 
gesting that  by  hitching  the  tails  of  the  ponies 
to  the  boats  they  could  be  made  to  help  con- 
siderably- 
Having  concluded  a  favorable  arrangement 
with  the  Indians,  I  undertook  the  venture, 
telling  Mr.  Deschamps  that  if  I  failed,  I  would 
return  and  overtake  him  at  Chicago. 

I  selected  my  men,  among  them  being  Noel 
Vasseur,  in  whom  I  had  the  utmost  confidence, 
wrote  a  letter  to  my  good  friends,  the  Kinzies, 
telling  them  of  the  change  in  my  plans,  and 
that  I  would  visit  them  after  I  got  settled  in 
my  winter  quarters.  I  sent  also  to  Mr.  Kinzie 
my  best  clothes  for  safe  keeping. 

Everything   being   in   readiness,    I   started 
early  on  the  following  morning,  and  soon  passed 
146 


an  old  Jesuit  mission,  afterwards  occupied  by 
Mr.  Coy.  We  halted  a  short  time  at  Bar- 
trand's,  and  from  him  I  received  full  informa- 
tion about  the  Kankakee  River,  and  he  tendered 
me  every  assistance  in  his  power  in  making  the 
crossing.  Proceeding  to  the  place  of  leaving 
the  St.  Joseph  I  met  the  Indians  with  their 
ponies,  and  following  the  suggestion  of  Mr. 
Burnett,  cut  poles  and  lashed  them  across  the 
boats,  which  had  been  unloaded,  at  the  bow 
and  stern.  We  then  wove  and  tied  the  ponies' 
tails  securely  to  the  poles  at  the  stem,  and 
tied  their  heads  to  the  ones  at  the  bow.  In 
order  that  the  boats  might  move  more  easily, 
we  placed  rollers  under  them,  and  then  the 
Indians  and  squaws  commenced  urging  the 
ponies  forward.  For  some  time  they  were 
awkward  and  stubborn,  some  would  pull,  while 
others  would  not,  but  by  patience  and  perse- 
verance, the  men  also  pulling,  we  finally  got 
them  started  and  advanced  for  a  hundred  or 
more  yards,  when  the  ponies  came  to  a  dead 
stand.  We  again  applied  the  rollers  and  the 
muscles  of  the  men,  and  succeeded  in  making 
another  start,  and  the  ponies  becoming  accus- 
tomed to  the  work,  soon  got  so  they  would 
make  a  quarter  of  a  mile  at  a  stretch,  and  in 
this  manner  we  passed  our  boats  over  and 
launched  them  into  the  Kankakee.  Repack- 
ing our  goods  and  loading  them  into  the  boats, 
we  were  soon  ready  to  embark.  We  found 
the  Kankakee  narrow  and  crooked,  with  suffi- 
147 


-Clje  ^utoBiograjJlip  of 


cient  water  to  float  our  boats,  but  with  very 
little  current. 

Our  progress  under  oars  was  at  the  rate  of 
fifty  or  sixty  miles  a  day,  and  we  met  with  no 
obstacles  until  we  reached  the  upper  rapids 
or  shoals,  where  the  village  of  Momence  is 
now  located. 

From  that  point,  shallow  water  continued 
at  intervals  until  we  reached  the  mouth  of  the 
Iroquois  River,  which  river  we  ascended  to  a 
trading  house,  located  a  short  distance  below 
the  present  village  of  Watseka,  which  was  our 
destination. 

The  Messrs.  Ewing,  then  of  Fort  Wayne, 
had  a  trading  house  further  up  the  river,  and 
opposite  the  present  village  of  Iroquois.  This 
house  was  in  charge  of  one  Chabare,  and  it 
was  for  the  purpose  of  opposing  him  that  I 
had  been  detailed.  Our  house  was  soon  put 
in  a  habitable  condition,  and  my  first  leaving 
it  was  for  the  purpose  of  visiting  Mr.  Chabare, 
with  whom,  during  the  entire  winter,  I  con- 
tinued on  friendly  relations. 

Having  made  friends  with  the  Indians,  to 
whom  I  gave  liberal  credits,  and  having  noted 
where  they  severally  intended  making  their 
hunting  camps,  I  slipped  away  for  a  week's 
visit  to  Chicago,  principally  to  see  my  good 
friends  the  Kinzies,  having  as  usual  a  very 
agreeable  visit,  and  promising  to  return  at 
Christmas  time,  which,  however,  I  was  pre- 
vented from  doing. 

148 


In  the  spring  I  had  but  a  handful  of  goods 
left,  and  -the  result  of  my  winter's  business 
was  quite  satisfactory  to  both  Mr.  Deschamps 
and  the  managers  of  the  Company  at  Mackinaw. 

Before  Mr.  Deschamps'  arrival  I  abandoned 
my  post  and  went  to  Chicago,  there  to  await 
him  and  the  brigade.  It  was  about  a  month 
before  they  came,  at  which  delay  I  was  well 
pleased,  as  I  passed  my  time  with  the  family 
of  Mr.  Kinzie,  who,  with  Dr.  Wolcott  and  the 
officers  of  the  fort,  made  my  visit  very 
pleasant.  I  much  regretted  leaving,  and  re- 
luctantly parted  from  my  friends,  uncertain 
whether  I  should  ever  see  them  again,  as  my 
term  of  service  was  about  expiring. 

I  had  not  settled  in  my  mind  what  was  my 
duty  and  interest.  My  inclination  led  me  to 
my  mother,  who  was  struggling  to  support  her 
four  young  daughters.  My  young  brother 
Christopher  had  obtained  a  position  in  the 
hardware  store  of  Henry  King,  in  New  York, 
but  was  receiving  only  his  board  for  his  ser- 
vices. 

In  my  uncertainty  what  course  to  pursue  I 
resorted,  as  was  my  custom,  to  Mr.  Kinzie  for 
advice,  and  also  consulted  the  Indian  agent, 
Dr.  Wolcott,  who  was  from  Middletown, 
Conn. ,  and  knew  my  mother  well.  It  was  now 
five  years  since  I  parted  from  my  loving  Chris- 
tian mother  and  my  sisters  and  brother,  apd 
I  was  just  reaching  my  majority,  with  no 
knowledge  of  the  world  outside  of  the  wilder- 
149 


€l)e  ^ittobiograpljp  of 


ness,  and  with  no  business  experience,  except- 
ing in  the  fur  trade.  For  the  past  five  years 
I  had  had  no  opportunity  to  improve  my  mind 
by  intercourse  with  refined  society  excepting 
during  the  short  time  I  had  passed  in  Chicago 
and  Mackinaw,  and  while  at  the  latter  place, 
more  than  one-half  of  my  time  was  devoted  to 
hard  labor.  In  my  boyhood  days  I  had  no 
love  for  books  or  study  and  now  that  I  felt  the 
need  of  improving  my  mind,  I  could  find  no 
opportunity  to  do  so.  For  the  past  year  I 
had  felt  more  than  ever  the  waste  of  my  life 
and  the  mortification  my  ignorance  caused  me. 
Messrs.  Kinzie  and  Wolcott  strongly  advised 
me  to  remain  in  the  only  business  for  which  I 
was  fitted,  and  to  forego  the  pleasure  of  seeing 
my  mother  and  sisters.  They  advised  me  to 
remit  my  earnings  and  remain  in  the  Indian 
trade  under  some  favorable  arrangement  with 
the  American  Fur  Company;  or,  if  not  with 
them,  with  Mr.  Chouteau  of  St.  Louis,  who  was 
ready  to  give  me  employment  at  a  good  salary. 
To  abandon  a  business  that  had  cost  me  five 
years  to  learn,  under  so  many  privations  and 
exposures,  for  some  other  uncertain  vocation, 
to  fit  me  for  which  would  consume  valuable 
time,  seemed  to  them  very  inadvisable. 
"Demand,"  they  said,  "of  the  Fur  Company 
a  fair  consideration  for  your  abilities,  and  if 
they  refuse  to  give  it,  then  you  have  Mr. 
Chouteau  to  fall  back  upon;  and  if  both  fail, 
you  are  well-enough  known  to  get  credit  for 
150 


<Durtion  ^alton^tall  i^ubbarti 

an  outfit    and    take    chances    on   your    own 
account." 

I  knew  these  gentlemen  were  among  my 
best  friends,  were  disinterested  in  their  advice, 
and  knew  better  than  I  did  the  estimation  in 
which  Messrs.  Ramsay  and  Crooks  held  me. 
Our  coasting  voyage  gave  me  ample  time  to 
ponder  over  my  situation  and  determine  the 
course  to  pursue.  I  had  a  great  desire  to  go 
home,  if  only  for  a  short  visit.  I  had  less  than 
one  hundred  dollars  due  me,  had  no  respect- 
able clothing;  my  best  coat  was  the  same  one 
provided  for  me  when  I  left  Montreal.  It 
was  not  threadbare,  and  would  have  looked 
quite  well  on  me,  had  the  fashion  been  for  but- 
tons half  way  up  the  back  and  sleeves  short 
and  tight.  Five  years  before,  it  looked  on  me 
as  though  it  was  my  father's;  now  it  looked 
like  a  half-grown  boy's.  To  have  fitted 
myself  out  in  a  manner  to  be  presentable  to 
the  society  of  Middletown  would  have  cost  all 
my  accumulated  funds.  I  was  forced  after 
due  consideration  to  forego  the  pleasure  of 
seeing  those  dear  to  me,  and  before  reaching 
Mackinaw  I  had  concluded  to  remain  west — 
where  to  be  decided  when  I  saw  Mr.  Crooks. 
I  felt  certain  of  a  good  position  in  the  employ 
of  the  Chouteaus  at  St.  Louis  in  case  Mr. 
Crooks'  terms  were  not  satisfactory.  When  I 
reached  Mackinaw  I  was  a  free  man  with  more 
than  ninety  dollars  to  my  credit  on  the  books 
of  the  company. 

151 


€l^e  ^utofiiograjjljp  of 


Mr.  Crooks  desired  me  to  again  take  charge 
of  packing  the  furs,  which  I  consented  to  do 
without  any  stipulation  as  to  price,  but  on  the 
condition  that  I  should  be  at  liberty  to  quit  at 
any  time  by  giving  a  few  days'  notice;  this 
enabled  me  to  send  eighty  dollars  of  my  earn- 
ings to  my  mother.  As  I  was  at  work  earning 
wages  I  did  not  hesitate  to  get  from  the  retail 
store,  then  in  charge  of  John  H.  Kinzie,  such 
goods  and  clothing  as  I  desired. 

In  about  a  month  a  schooner  arrived  from 
Cleveland  loaded  with  corn,  tallow,  and  other 
provisions  for  the  use  of  the  Company.  She 
was  to  take  to  Buffalo  a  cargo  of  furs,  which 
were  ready  packed  for  shipment. 

I  had  been  negotiating  for  a  re-engagement, 
but  had  declined  the  offer  made  by  the  man- 
agers and  had  demanded  a  larger  salary, 
which  had  been  refused.  The  morning  after 
the  arrival  of  the  schooner  I  surprised  Mr. 
Stewart  by  asking  him  to  fill  my  place,  as  I 
had  decided  to  take  passage  on  the  schooner 
for  Buffalo,  and  requested  him  to  fix  my  allow- 
ance, that  I  might  settle  my  account  at  the 
store.  I  hoped  that  I  should  have  enough 
left  to  take  me  east,  and  added  that  perhaps 
Mr.  Astor  would  give  me  employment  in  the 
fur  store  in  New  York. 

Mr.  Stewart  seemed  much  surprised,  and 

said  that  he  thought  it  was  settled  that  I  should 

remain  in  the  employ  of  the  Company.     I 

replied,  "No,  sir;  I  consider  my  services  worth 

152 


more  than  you  and  Mr.  Crooks  offer  me; 
hence  I  intend  to  leave  you."  Before 'the 
departure  of  the  schooner,  however,  they 
accepted  my  offer,  and  I  engaged  with  the 
Company  for  another  year.  I  shipped  a  por- 
tion of  my  goods  to  Chicago  by  a  vessel  bound 
there,  and  thus  reduced  the  number  of  boats 
in  the  brigade  to  five. 

1824.— PLACED  IN  CHARGE  OF  THE  ILLI- 
NOIS RIVER  TRADING  POSTS. 

Mr.  Deschamps,  having  become  old  and 
worn  by  long  continued  service  and  the  hard- 
ships to  which  he  had  been  exposed,  resigned 
his  position  as  Superintendent  of  the  Illinois 
River  Trading  Posts  of  the  American  Fur 
Company,  and  on  his  recommendation  I  was 
appointed  to  succeed  him.  I  now  determined 
to  carry  out  a  project  which  I  had  long  urged 
upon  Mr.  Deschamps,  but  without  success — 
that  of  unloading  the  boats  upon  their  arrival 
at  Chicago  from  Mackinaw,  and  scuttling  them 
in  the  slough,  to  prevent  their  loss  by  prairie 
fires,  until  they  were  needed  to  reload  with 
furs  for  the  return  voyage. 

The  goods  and  furs  I  proposed  to  transport 
to  and  from  the  Indian  hunting  grounds  on 
pack  horses.  In  this  manner  the  long,  tedious, 
and  difficult  passage  through  Mud  Lake,  into 
and  down  the  Desplaines  River,  would  be 
avoided,  and  the  goods  taken  directly  to  the 

153 


€l&e  ^utobiograpljp  of 


Indians  at  their  hunting  grounds,  instead  of 
having  to  be  carried  in  packs  on  the  backs  of 
the  men.  During  the  year  1822,  I  had  estab- 
Ushed  a  direct  path  or  track  from  Iroquois 
post  to  Danville,  and  I  now  extended  it  south 
from  Danville  and  north  to  Chicago,  thus 
fully  opening  "Hubbard's  Trail"  from  Chi- 
cago to  a  point  about  one  hundred  and  fifty 
miles  south  of  Danville.  Along  this  "trail"  I 
established  trading  posts  forty  to  fifty  miles 
apart.  This  "trail"  became  the  regularly 
traveled  route  between  Chicago  and  Danville 
and  points  beyond,  and  was  designated  on  the 
old  maps  as  "Hubbard's  Trail."* 

In  the  winter  of  1833-34  the  General  Assem- 
bly ordered  that  a  State  road  be  located  from 
Vincennes  to  Chicago,  and  that  mile-stones  be 
placed  thereon,  and  from  Danville  to  Chicago 
the  Commissioners  adopted  my  "trail"  most 
of  the  way,  because  it  was  the  most  direct 
route  and  on  the  most  favorable  ground. 
Through  constant  use  by  horses,  ponies,  and 

♦Note. — "Hubbard's  Trail"  ran  through  Cook, 
Will,  Kankakee,  Iroquois,  and  Vermilion  Counties, 
passing  the  present  towns  of  Blue  Island,  Home- 
wood,  Bloom,  Crete,  Grant,  Momence,  Beaverville, 
Iroquois,  Hoopeston,  and  Myersville  to  Danville, 
and  southwest  through  Vermilion  and  Champaign 
Counties  to  Bement  m  Piatt  County;  thence  south 
through  Moultrie  and  Shelby  Counties  to  Blue  Point 
in  Effingham  County.  At  Crete,  a  fence  has  been 
built  around  a  portion  of  this  "  trail,"  to  further  pre- 
serve it  as  an  old  landmark  and  a  relic  of  early  roads 
and  early  times. 

154 


<Durt»ott  ^alton^tafl  J^ufifiarti 

men,  the  path  became  worn  so  deeply  into  the 
ground  that  when  I  last  visited  the  vicinity  of 
my  old  Iroquois  post  (now  called  Bunkum),  in 
the  fall  of  1880,  traces  of  it  were  still  visible, 
and  my  grand  nephew,  a  little  lad  of  fourteen 
years,  who  accompanied  me  on  the  trip,  jumped 
out  of  the  carriage  and  ran  some  distance  in 
the  trail  where  I  had  walked  fifty-eight  years 
before. 

1825. 

The  winter  of  1825  I  passed  at  my  Iroquois 
post.  The  hunting  had  been  unusually  good, 
and  large  quantities  of  goods  were  sold  and 
many  fine  furs  collected. 

In  the  spring,  Mr.  John  Kinzie  got  out  of 
goods  at  Chicago,  and  sent  a  Mr.  Hall  to  me 
to  request  me  to  go  to  St.  Louis  by  boat  for 
a  supply.  Mr.  Hall  was  to  remain  and  man- 
age my  business  during  my  absence.  Neither 
Mr.  Kinzie  nor  myself  had  a  boat  suitable  for 
the  journey,  but  he  thought  I  could  arrange 
for  one.  Mr.  Hamlin,  of  Peoria,  had  a  boat 
which  was  well  adapted  to  the  purpose,  and  I 
decided  to  send  Vasseur  and  Portier  to  Peoria  to 
engage  the  boat  and  prepare  it  for  the  journey, 
while  I  should  go  to  Chicago,  see  Mr.  Kinzie, 
and  learn  from  him  what  goods  were  required. 

The  water  was  very  high,  and  all  the  rivers 
and  streams  had  overflowed  their  banks.  Por- 
tier could  not  swim,  and  both  men  were  afraid 
and  refused  to  go.     I  assured  them  they  would 

155 


€|)e  ^utoBiograjJljp  of 


not  need  to  swim,  as  they  could  head  all  the 
streams  on  the  route;  while,  on  the  way  to 
Chicago,  I  should  be  compelled  to  cross  the 
streams,  and  probably  to  swim  them.  I  fur- 
ther told  them  that  if  they  refused  to  go,  I 
should  dock  their  wages  and  discharge  them. 
In  the  morning,  having  thought  the  matter 
over  and  becoming  ashamed  of  their  refusal, 
they  announced  themselves  as  ready  to  start, 
and  did  so  as  soon  as  they  had  eaten  their 
breakfasts.  This  was  the  first  and  only  time 
they  ever  refused  to  obey  my  orders. 

I  thought  I  could  go  on  horseback  to  the 
mouth  of  the  Iroquois  and  there  swim  the 
Kankakee,  and  as  two  Indians  were  bound  for 
that  point,  I  decided  to  accompany  them.  It 
had  frozen  during  the  night,  and  the  morning 
was  very  cold.  We  progressed  very  pleasantly 
until  we  reached  a  small  stream  on  the  prairie 
which  had  overflowed  its  banks,  and  upon 
which  a  new  covering  of  ice  had  formed  during 
the  night,  leaving  running  water  between  the 
two  coverings  of  ice.  The  upper  ice  was  not 
strong  enough  for  a  man  to  walk  on,  but  the 
Indians  laid  down  and  slid  themselves  across 
with  little  difficulty.  I  rode  my  horse  to  the 
stream,  and  reaching  forward  with  my  toma- 
hawk broke  the  ice  ahead  of  him,  he  walking 
on  the  under  ice  until  he  reached  the  middle  of 
the  stream,  when  his  hind  feet  broke  through, 
the  girth  gave  away,  and  the  saddle  slipped  off 
behind  carrying  me  with  it.  I  fell  into  the  water 
156 


<Duttion  J>altonjeftan  I^ubliartJ 

and  was  carried  by  the  current  rapidly  down  the 
stream  between  the  upper  and  lower  coverings 
of  ice.  I  made  two  attempts  to  gain  my  feet, 
but  the  current  was  so  swift  and  the  space  so 
narrow  I  could  not  break  through  the  ice. 

I  had  about  given  up  all  hope,  when  my  hand 
struck  a  willow  bush  near  the  bank  and  thus 
arrested  my  rapid  progress.  At  the  same 
time  I  stood  up  and  bumping  the  ice  with  my 
head  broke  through.  The  Indians  were  much 
astonished  to  see  me  come  up  through  the  ice, 
and  gave  utterance  to  their  surprise  by  a  pecu- 
liar exclamation.  I  recovered  my  horse  and 
saddle  and  returned  to  my  trading  house,  with 
no  worse  result  than  wet  clothing  and  a  slightly 
bruised  head. 

I  had  just  completed  a  small  blackwalnut 
canoe,  and  with  this,  and  my  man  Jombeau  to 
assist  me,  I  went  to  the  dividing  ridge,  near 
where  the  city  of  Kankakee  now  stands.  The 
canoe  was  small  and  would  barely  hold  us  both, 
but  we  paddled  safely  down  the  Iroquois,  and 
the  following  day  arrived  at  Kankakee;  there 
we  left  the  canoe  and  started  for  Chicago  on 
foot.  It  was  a  warm,  thawing  day,  and  I 
could  scarcely  see  on  account  of  the  mist.  I 
had  walked  a  long  time  and  thought  I  was  on 
my  "trail"  and  near  Blue  Island,  when  I  heard 
a  gun,  and  soon  after  found  an  Indian,  who 
had  shot  a  muskrat.  This  I  got  from  him,  and 
it  was  all  Jombeau  and  I  had  to  eat  that  day 
and  the  following  one. 
157 


€Jje  ^utofiiograpJjp  of 


The  Indian  asked  where  I  was  going,  and 
when  I  told  him  to  Chicago,  he  surprised  us 
by  saying  that  we  were  going  the  wrong  way. 
We  had  become  completely  turned  around, 
and  were  then  only  about  two  miles  from 
"Yellow  Head  Point."  We  camped  that 
night  on  the  bank  of  a  creek,  near  where  Miller's 
stock-farm  is  now  located.  On  the  third  day 
I  reached  Chicago,  reported  to  Mr.  Kinzie, 
and  found  that  he  had  started  two  men  in  a 
canoe  to  meet  me  at  Peoria  with  a  list  of  the 
goods  required. 

The  day  following  I  started  in  another  canoe 
with  an  old  Frenchman  for  Peoria,  and  we  got 
along  without  trouble  until  we  reached  Peoria 
Lake.  The  wind  being  fair,  I  made  a  small 
mast  and  hoisted  a  blanket  for  a  sail;  but  the 
wind  being  quite  strong,  the  canoe  suddenly 
upset  when  about  a  half-mile  from  shore.  My 
companion  was  terribly  frightened,  but  I  made 
him  cling  to  the  boat,  and  soon  got  him  safely 
to  land.  We  were  three  days  in  making  the 
trip  to  Peoria.  My  men  had  arrived,  and  the 
boat  was  all  prepared  for  the  trip  to  St.  Louis. 
They  had  become  much  alarmed  about  me, 
thinking  I  was  drowned,  and  were  greatly 
rejoiced  at  my  arrival.  The  next  day  we 
started  for  St.  Louis,  where  we  arrived  in  due 
season  and  without  incident  worthy  of  notice. 
I  bought  my  goods,  delivered  them  at  Chicago, 
and  returned  as  quickly  as  possible  to  my  post 
at  Iroquois. 

158 


We  were  in  a  state  of  semi-starvation  this 
spring,  being  compelled  to  live  almost  entirely 
on  corn.  My  men  were  busy  splitting  rails  to 
fence  in  a  patch  of  ground  for  a  garden,  in 
which  I  hoped  to  raise  vegetables  for  the  follow- 
ing winter's  consumption.  Meat  was  much 
desired,  but  hard  to  procure. 

I  had  a  large  domestic  cat  that  enjoyed  the 
freedom  of  the  house  and  store,  and  upon  pack- 
ing my  winter's  collection  of  furs  for  transpor- 
tation to  Chicago,  I  discovered  that  the  cat  had 
gnawed  the  ends  of  some  of  them,  where  meat 
had  been  left  in  skinning.  I  was  very  much 
vexed  at  the  discovery.  Looking  up  I  saw  the 
cat  sitting  in  the  store  window,  and  taking  my 
rifle,  shot  him.  He  fell  inside,  and  crawled 
behind  a  bale  of  cloth,  where  he  remained  until  I 
removed  the  goods,  when  I  found  and  killed 
him.  I  took  him  out  and  gave  him  to  the 
Indian  cook,  telling  him  that  the  skin  would 
make  him  a  nice  tobacco  pouch.  Just  before 
dinner  time  I  went  out  again  and  asked  the 
cook  what  he  had  done  with  the  cat.  He 
answered  me  by  pointing  to  the  kettle  in  which 
the  corn  soup  was  cooking  for  the  men's  din- 
ner.    I  laughed,  but  said  nothing. 

When  the  men  came  in  and  smelled  the 
savory  stew  they  were  greatly  pleased  at  the 
thought  of  having  meat  for  dinner.  They 
were  always  in  the  habit  of  selecting  the 
choicest  bits  of  meat  and  sending  them  to  me, 
and  they  did  not  forget  me  on  this  occasion; 

159 


C[je  ^lutDfiiograplJp  of 


but  I  declined  to  eat,  telling  them  I  did  not 
care  for  it,  and  that  they  could  eat  all  of  it. 
They  ate  it  with  great  relish,  and  after  they 
had  finished  their  dinner,  I  asked  them  if  they 
knew  what  they  had  eaten.  They  said  "yes, 
wildcat,"  and  were  greatly  astonished  when  I 
told  them  they  had  devoured  our  old  tom  cat. 
One  of  them  said  it  made  no  difference,  it  was 
good;  the  other  thought  differently,  and  tried 
hard  to  rid  himself  of  what  he  had  eaten  by 
thrusting  his  finger  down  his  throat,  but  with- 
out success;  the  old  cat  would  not  come  up. 

TROUBLE  WITH  YELLOW  HEAD.  — DAN- 
VILLE. —  "  WINNEBAGO  SCARE."  —  IN 
THE  OHIO  RIVER.  — KA-NE-KUCK. 

I  had  now  been  in  the  employ  of  the  Ameri- 
can Fur  Company  for  more  than  seven  years, 
and  for  the  two  years  after  the  expiration  of 
my  original  five  years'  contract,  I  had  received 
the  very  liberal  salary  of  thirteen  hundred  dol- 
lars per  year.  Being,  however,  dissatisfied 
with  that  amount,  I  had  determined  to  leave 
its  employ,  when  the  Company  offered  me  an 
interest  as  a  special  partner,  which  offer  I 
gladly  accepted.  My  labors  were  no  lighter; 
in  fact,  the  responsibility  seemed  greater,  and 
I  worked  harder  than  ever,  realizing  that  on 
my  own  efforts  and  success  depended  the 
amount  of  compensation  I  should  receive. 
My  headquarters  for  the  winter  were  at 
i6o 


<Durtion  ^alton^tall  i^util&arti 

Iroquois  post,  though  I  made  frequent  excur- 
sions to  other  points,  and  was  very  often  in 
Chicago. 

One  cold  day  in  March,  1827,  I  went  to 
Beaver  Creek  Lake  for  a  hunt.  This  was  a 
part  of  the  great  Kankakee  marsh,  and  geese, 
ducks,  and  swan  were  very  abundant.  The 
fall  previous  I  had  hidden  a  canoe  in  the 
vicinity  of  the  lake  and  about  thirteen  miles 
from  my  trading  house,  and  this  I  found  with 
little  difficulty.  I  hunted  until  nearly  dark, 
when,  thinking  it  too  late  to  return  home,  I 
camped  for  the  night  on  a  small  island  in  the 
lake.  There  were  no  trees,  but  I  made  a  fire 
with  driftwood,  and  having  cooked  some  game 
for  my  supper,  lay  down  and  soon  fell  asleep. 
Some  time  in  the  night  I  awoke  in  great  pain, 
and  found  that  my  fire  had  nearly  gone  out. 
I  managed  to  replenish  it,  but  the  pain  con- 
tinued, being  most  severe  in  my  legs,  and  by 
morning  it  increased  to  such  an  extent  that  I 
could  not  reach  my  canoe.  About  ten  o'clock 
an  Indian  came  down  the  lake  and  I  called  him 
and  told  him  of  my  condition,  and  with  his 
assistance  reached  the  canoe,  and  finally  the 
main  shore.  I  sent  the  Indian  to  Iroquois 
with  orders  for  my  men  to  come  and  bring 
with  them  a  horse  and  harness.  On  their 
arrival  I  had  the  horse  hitched  to  the  canoe 
and  myself  placed  therein,  and  started  in  this 
manner  to  ride  home.  I  soon  found  that  I 
could  not  stand  the  jarring  of  the  canoe  as  it 
161 


€!je  3lutobiogra}jJ)p  of 


was  drawn  over  the  rough  ground,  and  halted 
until  some  better  means  of  travel  could  be 
devised.  I  sent  back  to  Iroquois  for  two  more 
men,  which  necessitated  my  camping  for 
another  night .  On  their  arrival  they  construct- 
ed, with  poles  and  blankets,  a  litter  upon 
which  they  bore  me  safely  and  quite  com- 
fortably home. 

I  had  a  severe  attack  of  inflammatory  rheu- 
matism, which  confined  me  to  the  house  for 
three  or  four  weeks,  and  from  which  I  did 
not  fully  recover  for  eighteen  months.  I  doc- 
tored myself  with  poultices  of  elm  and  decoc- 
tions of  various  herbs. 

About  six  weeks  after  my  attack  of  rheuma- 
tism I  prepared  to  abandon  my  trading  house 
on  the  Iroquois  and  remove  to  Chicago,  but 
was  compelled  to  wait  for  a  band  of  Indians 
who  owed  me  for  goods  and  who  had  not  yet 
returned  from  their  winter  hunting  grounds. 
While  thus  delayed  two  white  men  appeared 
with  a  pair  of  horses  and  a  wagon  loaded  with 
corn,  commeal,  and  whisky.  Hearing  that  I 
was  waiting  for  the  Indians,  they  decided  to 
wait  also  and  trade  them  whisky  for  furs, 
blankets,  or  anything  else  of  value  which  the 
Indians  might  possess.  I  was  unable  to  walk 
without  crutches,  and  scarcely  able  to  leave 
my  bunk.  I  knew  that  if  the  Indians  were 
allowed  to  have  the  whisky,  trouble  would 
ensue,  so  I  sent  Noel  Vasseur  to  their  camp 
to  ask  one  of  the  men  to  come  and  see  me. 
162 


<Duttion  J>flItonj9ftan  ijubbarli 

He  soon  came,  and  I  told  him  I  did  not  like 
to  have  him  sell  whisky  to  the  Indians,  and 
that  he  had  no  right  to  do  so,  as  he  had  no 
license  from  the  Government  to  trade  with 
Indians.  He  replied  that  he  had  as  much 
right  to  trade  as  I  had,  and  that  he  should  do 
as  he  pleased.  I  warned  him  that  the  Indians 
would  become  drunk,  and  would  then  rob, 
and  probably  murder  them,  but  he  refused  to 
listen  to  me,  and  returned  to  his  camp. 

I  immediately  stationed  men  to  watch  for 
the  coming  of  the  Indians,  and  was  soon 
informed  that  Yellow  Head  and  his  band  were 
at  hand.  When  they  arrived,  I  had  a  large 
kettle  of  corn  soup  and  other  food  ready  for 
them,  and  as  soon  as  they  had  eaten,  I  took 
them  into  my  council  room,  traded  for  their 
furs,  collected  what  they  owed  me,  and  after 
giving  each  one  a  gill  of  whisky,  dismissed 
them  before  the  strangers  had  learned  of  their 
arrival.  The  Indians  soon  discovered  the 
camp  of  the  two  men  and  commenced  trading 
their  blankets  and  the  goods  they  had  just 
bought  from  me  for  whisky.  I  sent  word  to 
the  men  to  leave,  and  told  them  that  as  soon 
as  the  Indians  got  drunk  they  would  rob  them 
of  all  they  had  sold  them,  but  they  would  not 
heed  the  message. 

As   I    had    anticipated,   the    Indians    soon 

became  drunk,  and   angry  because  they  had 

nothing  more  to  trade  and  could  get  no  more 

to  drink,  and  began  to  take  back  their  blankets 

163 


€l&e  ^utoBiograpljp  of 


and  goods.  The  white  men  became  very 
much  frightened,  and  came  to  me  for  assist- 
ance. I  refused  to  interfere,  but  sent  Vasseur 
and  Jacques  Jombeau  to  empty  the  remaining 
kegs  of  whisky,  which  they  did.  The  Indians 
scooped  up  the  wliisky  with  their  hands,  and 
became  more  and  more  enraged,  and  finally 
assaulted  Jombeau,  and  stabbed  him  in  the 
back,  though  not  severely.  The  Indians  got 
back  all  they  had  sold,  and  the  white  men  made 
their  escape  with  the  horses  and  wagon.  The 
disturbance  lasted  all  night. 

The  Indians  came  to  my  house  and  demand- 
ed more  whisky,  and  were,  of  course,  refused. 
They  all  laid  down  and  fell  asleep,  except  Yel- 
low Head  (a  brother-in-law  of  Billy  Caldwell), 
who  came  several  times  to  me,  coaxing  and 
threatening  me,  but  to  no  purpose.  He  finally 
said  he  would  go  to  my  store,  break  in  and 
take  as  much  as  he  wanted.  I  said,  "Very 
well,  go  on,"  and  he  started  for  the  store- 
house. I  got  up  from  my  bunk,  took  my  rifle 
and  thrust  it  through  the  paper  which  served 
for  window  glass,  and  as  he  reached  the  store, 
I  "drew  a  bead  on  him,"  and  called  to  him  to 
go  on  and  break  in.  He  changed  his  mind 
and  walked  away. 

I  again  laid  down,  and  in  a  few  minutes  he 
returned  very  angry,  and  walking  up  to  my 
bunk  drew  a  knife  and  attempted  to  stab  me ; 
but  I  was  too  quick  for  him,  seized  his  arm, 
and  lame  as  I  was,  jumped  up,  took  the  knife 
164 


away,  and  pushed  him  out  of  the  door,  where  I 
found  some  squaws  who  had  been  attracted 
by  the  disturbance.  Outside  the  door  was  a 
large  mortar  with  a  heavy  iron-wood  pestle, 
which  I  used  for  pounding  corn.  I  gave  the 
knife  to  a  squaw,  and  leaned  on  one  crutch 
against  the  mortar  with  my  hand  on  the  pestle. 
Yellow  Head  felt  in  his  leggins  for  another 
knife,  when  I  said  to  the  squaw,  "Give  the 
old  woman  a  knife."  She  did  so,  but  Yellow 
Head,  looking  at  the  pestle  upon  which  my 
hand  rested,  and  doubtless  remembering  the 
sudden  manner  in  which  I  had  before  dis- 
armed* him,  deemed  "discretion  the  better 
part  of  valor,"  and  silently  departed  with  the 
squaws. 

The  day  following  I  started  for  Chicago, 
leaving  one  of  my  men,  Dominick  Bray  by 
name,  in  charge  of  the  place,  and  to  make  a 
garden  and  plant  vegetables  for  the  following 
winter's  use.  Two  or  three  days  after  my 
arrival  in  Chicago,  Bray  appeared  with  the 
story  that  Yellow  Head  had  returned  for  re- 
venge. Bray  was  lying  in  his  bunk,  when 
Yellow  Head  and  two  other  Indians  entered 
the  house  and  leveled  their  rifles  at  him.  He 
jumped  up  and  ran  by  them  out  of  the  door, 
pulling  it  shut  just  as  they  fired,  and  the  bullets 
struck  the  door  through  which  he  had  escaped. 
Bray  ran  into  the  woods,  caught  a  horse,  and 
left  for  Chicago.  The  Indians  pillaged  the 
house  and  store,  taking  everything  that  had 
165 


€|je  ^utobiograjjfjp  of 


been  left.  Other  Indians  warned  me  that 
Yellow  Head  intended  to  kill  me  should  he 
ever  meet  me  again,  but  before  my  return  to 
the  Iroquois,  he  was  killed  in  a  drunken  fight, 
and  thus  I  was  saved  from  further  trouble 
with  him. 

I  had  already  located  at  Danville,  where  I 
intended  in  the  future  to  make  my  general 
headquarters,  and  a  portion  of  the  spring  and 
summer  of  this  year  was  spent  at  that  place. 
Danville  had  become  quite  a  settlement,  and  I 
had  a  number  of  pleasant  acquaintances  there. 
Mr.  Kinzie  having  resigned  his  position  as 
Indian  trader  at  Chicago,  I  made  appHcation 
for  the  place,  which,  however,  I  did  not  receive. 

I  made  my  annual  trip  to  Mackinaw,  arriving 
there  in  the  month  of  August,  and  before  my 
return  made  a  new  arrangement  with  the  Fur 
Company,  by  which  I  bought  out  its  entire  in- 
terests in  Illinois.  Business  was  very  poor 
during  the  year  1827,  and  in  the  spring  of  1828 
I  built  a  store  at  Danville,  and  permanently 
sstablished  my  headquarters  there. 

WINNEBAGO  SCARE.* 

At  the  breaking  out  of  the  Winnebago  war, 
early  in  July,  1827,  Fort  Dearborn  was  without 
military  occupation. 

Doctor  Alexander  Wolcott,   Indian  agent, 

*From  statements  by  Mr.  Hubbard  in  Chicago 
Historical  Series,  No.  10. 
166 


had  charge  of  the  fort,  living  in  the  brick 
building,  just  within  the  north  stockade,  pre- 
viously occupied  by  the  commanding  officers. 
The  old  officers'  quarters,  built  of  logs,  on  the 
west,  and  within  the  pickets,  were  occupied  by 
Russell  E.  Heacock  and  one  other  American 
family,  while  a  number  of  voyageurs  with  their 
families  were  living  in  the  soldiers'  quarters  on 
the  east  side  of  the  inclosure. 

The  annual  payment  of  the  Pottawatomie 
Indians  occurred  in  September  of  the  year  1828. 
A  large  body  of  them  had  assembled,  according 
to  custom,  to  receive  their  annuity.  These 
left  after  the  payment  for  their  respective 
villages,  except  a  portion  of  Big  Foot's  band. 

The  night  following  the  payment,  there  was 
a  dance  in  the  soldiers'  barracks,  during  the 
progress  of  which  a  violent  storm  of  wind  and 
rain  arose;  and  about  midnight  these  quarters 
were  struck  by  lightning  and  totally  consumed, 
together  with  the  storehouse  and  a  portion  of 
the  guard-house. 

The  sleeping  inmates  of  Mr.  Kinzie's  house, 
on  the  opposite  bank  of  the  river,  were  aroused 
by  the  cry  of  "fire,"  from  Mrs.  Helm,  one 
of  their  number,  who,  from  her  window,  had 
seen  the  flames.  On  hearing  the  alarm  I,  with 
Robert  Kinzie,  hastily  arose,  and,  only  partially 
dressed,  ran  to  the  river.  To  our  dismay,  we 
found  the  canoe,  which  was  used  for  crossing 
the  river,  filled  with  water;  it  had  been  par- 
tially drawn  up  on  the  beach  and  became  filled 
167 


€|)e  ^utotiiograpfip  of 


by  the  dashing  of  the  waves.  Not  being  able 
to  turn  it  over,  and  having  nothing  with  which 
to  bail  it  out,  we  lost  no  time,  but  swam  the 
stream.  Entering  by  the  north  gate  we  saw 
at  a  glance  the  situation.  The  barracks  and 
storehouse  being  wrapped  in  flames,  we  direct- 
ed our  energies  to  the  saving  of  the  guard- 
house, the  east  end  of  which  was  on  fire.  Mr. 
Kinzie,  rolling  himself  in  a  wet  blanket,  got 
upon  the  roof.  The  men  and  women,  about 
forty  in  number,  formed  a  Hne  to  the  river, 
and  with  buckets,  tubs,  and  every  available 
utensil,  passed  the  water  to  him;  this  was  kept 
up  till  daylight  before  the  flames  were  sub- 
dued, Mr.  Kinzie  maintaining  his  dangerous 
position  with  great  fortitude,  though  his  hands, 
face,  and  portions  of  his  body  were  severely 
burned.  His  father,  mother,  and  sister,  Mrs. 
Helm,  had  meanwhile  freed  the  canoe  from 
water,  and  crossing  in  it,  fell  into  line  with  those 
carrying  water. 

Some  of  the  Big  Foot  band  of  Indians  were 
present  at  the  fire,  but  merely  as  spectators, 
and  could  not  be  prevailed  upon  to  assist;  they 
all  left  the  next  day  for  their  homes.  The 
strangeness  of  their  behavior  was  the  subject 
of  discussion  among  us. 

Six  or  eight  days  after  this  event,  while  at 
breakfast  in  Mr.  Kinzie's  house,  we  heard 
singing,  faintly  at  first,  but  gradually  growing 
^louder  as  the  singers  approached.  Mr.  Kinzie 
recognized  the  leading  voice  as  that  of  Bob 
i68 


<6urtion  J>alton^tan  i^uBBarti 

Forsyth,  and  left  the  table  for  the  piazza  of  the 
house,  where  we  all  followed.  About  where 
Wells  street  now  crosses  the  river,  in  plain  sight 
from  where  we  stood,  was  a  light  birch-bark 
canoe,  manned  with  thirteen  men,  rapidly 
approaching,  the  men  keeping  time  with  their 
paddles  to  one  of  the  Canadian  boat  songs; 
it  proved  to  be  Governor  Cass  and  his  secre- 
tary, Robert  Forsyth,  and  they  landed  and 
soon  joined  us.  From  them  we  first  learned 
of  the  breaking  out  of  the  Winnebago  war, 
and  the  massacre  on  the  Upper  Mississippi. 
Governor  Cass  was  at  Green  Bay  by  appoint- 
ment, to  hold  a  treaty  with  the  Winnebagoes 
and  Menomonee  tribes,  who,  however,  did 
not  appear  to  meet  him  in  council.  News 
of  hostilities  reaching  the  Governor  there, 
he  immediately  procured  a  light  birch  bark 
canoe,  purposely  made  for  speed,  manned 
it  with  twelve  men  at  the  paddles  and  a 
steersman,  and  started  up  the  river,  making 
a  portage  into  the  Wisconsin,  then  down  it 
and  the  Mississippi  to  Jefferson  Barracks 
below  St.  Louis. 

Here  he  persuaded  the  commanding  officer 
to  charter  a  steamer,  and  embarking  troops  on 
it,  ascended  the  Mississippi  in  search  of  the 
hostile  Indians,  and  to  give  aid  to  the  troops 
at  Fort  Snelling.  On  reaching  the  mouth  of 
the  Illinois  River,  the  Governor  (with  his  men 
and  canoe,  having  been  brought  so  far  on  the 
steamer),  here  left  it,  and  ascending  that  stream 
169 


€i)e  ^utoBtogtajpl^p  of 


and  the  Desplaines,  passed  through  Mud  Lake 
into  the  South  Branch  of  the  Chicago  River, 
thus  reaching  Chicago.  This  trip  from  Green 
Bay,  was  performed  in  about  thirteen  days, 
the  Governor's  party  sleeping  only  five  to 
seven  hours,  and  averaging  sixty  to  seventy 
miles  travel  each  day.  On  the  Wisconsin 
River  they  passed  Winnebago  encampments 
without  molestation.  They  did  not  stop  to 
parley,  passing  rapidly  by,  singing  their  boat 
songs;  the  Indians  were  so  taken  by  surprise 
that  before  they  recovered  from  their  astonish- 
ment, the  canoe  was  out  of  danger.  Governor 
Cass  remained  at  Chicago  but  a  few  hours, 
coasting  Lake  Michigan  back  to  Green  Bay. 
As  soon  as  he  left,  the  inhabitants  of  Chicago 
assembled  for  consultation.  Big  Foot  was  sus- 
pected of  acting  in  concert  with  the  Winneba- 
goes,  as  he  was  known  to  be  friendly  to  them, 
and  many  of  his  band  had  intermarried  with 
that  tribe. 

Shaub-e-nee  was  not  here  at  the  payment, 
his  money  having  been  drawn  for  him  by  his 
friend,  Billy  Caldwell.  The  evening  before 
Governor  Cass'  visit,  however,  he  was  in  Chi- 
cago, and  then  the  guest  of  Caldwell.  At  my 
suggestion  he  and  Caldwell  were  engaged  to 
visit  Big  Foot's  village  (Geneva  Lake),  and  get 
what  information  they  could  of  the  plans  of 
the  Winnebagoes,  and  also  learn  what  action 
Big  Foot's  band  intended  taking.  They  left 
immediately,  and  on  nearing  Geneva  Lake, 
170 


<0urtion  J^alton^all  i^ulifiarti 

arranged  that  Shaub-e-nee  should  enter  the 
village  alone,  Caldwell  remaining  hidden. 

Upon  entering  the  village  Shaub-e-nee  was 
made  a  prisoner,  and  accused  of  being  a  friend 
of  the  Americans,  and  a  spy.  He  affected 
great  indignation  at  these  charges,  and  said  to 
Big  Foot:  "I  was  not  at  the  payment,  but  was 
told  by  my  braves  that  you  desired  us  to  join 
the  Winnebagoes  and  make  war  on  the  Ameri- 
cans. I  think  the  Winnebagoes  have  been 
foolish;  alone  they  cannot  succeed.  So  I  have 
come  to  council  with  you,  hear  what  you  have 
to  say,  when  I  will  return  to  my  people  and 
report  all  you  tell  me;  if  they  shall  then  say 
we  will  join  you,  I  will  consent."  After  talk- 
ing nearly  all  night  they  agreed  to  let  him  go, 
provided  he  was  accompanied  by  one  of  their 
own  number;  to  this  proposal  Shaub-e-nee 
readily  consented,  though  it  placed  him  in  a 
dangerous  position.  His  friend  Caldwell  was 
waiting  for  him  in  the  outskirts  of  the  village 
and  his  presence  must  not  be  known,  as  it 
would  endanger  both  of  their  lives.  Shaub-e- 
nee  was  equal  to  the  emergency.  After  leaving 
in  company  with  one  of  Big  Foot's  braves,  as 
the  place  of  Caldwell's  concealment  was  neared, 
he  commenced  complaining  in  a  loud  voice  of 
being  suspected  and  made  a  prisoner,  and  when 
quite  near,  said,  "We  must  have  no  one  with 
us  in  going  to  Chicago.  Should  we  meet  any 
one  of  your  band  or  any  one  else,  we  must 
tell  them  to  go  away;  we  must  go  by  our- 
171 


€f)e  ^utobiograpl^p  of 


selves,  and  get  to  Chicago  by  noon  to-morrow. 
Kinzie  will  give  us  something  to  eat  and  we 
can  go  on  next  day." 

Caldwell  heard  and  understood  the  meaning 
of  this,  and  started  alone  by  another  route. 
Strategy  was  still  to  be  used,  as  Shaub-e-nee 
desired  to  report;  so,  on  nearing  Chicago  he 
said  to  his  companion,  "If  Kinzie  sees  you,  he 
will  ask  why  your  band  did  not  assist  in  put- 
ting out  the  fire.  Maybe  he  has  heard  news 
of  the  war  and  is  angry  with  Big  Foot;  let  us 
camp  here,  for  our  horses  are  very  tired. 
This  they  did,  and  after  a  little  the  Big  Foot 
brave  suggested  that  Shaub-e-nee  should  go  to 
the  fort  for  food  and  information.  This  was 
what  he  wanted  to  do,  and  he  lost  no  time  in 
reporting  the  result  of  his  expedition,  and  pro- 
curing food  returned  to  his  camp.  Starting 
the  next  morning  with  his  companion  for  his 
own  village;  on  reaching  it  he  called  a  council 
of  his  Indians,  who  were  addressed  by  Big 
Foot's  emissary;  but  they  declined  to  take 
part  with  the  Winnebagoes,  advising  Big  Foot 
to  remain  neutral. 

On  receiving  Shaub-e-nee 's  report,  the 
inhabitants  of  Chicago  were  greatly  excited. 
Fearing  an  attack,  we  assembled  for  consulta- 
tion, when  I  suggested  sending  to  the  Wabash 
for  assistance,  and  tendered  my  services  as 
messenger.  This  was  at  first  objected  to,  on 
the  ground  that  a  majority  of  the  men  at  the 
fort  were  in  my  employ,  and  in  case  of  an 
172 


attack,  no  one  could  manage  them  or  enforce 
their  aid  but  myself.  It  was,  however,  decided 
that  I  should  go,  as  I  knew  the  route  and  all 
the  settlers.  An  attack  would  probably  not 
be  made  until  Big  Foot's  embassador  had 
returned  with  his  report;  this  would  give  at 
least  two  weeks'  security,  and  in  that  time  I 
could,  if  successful,  make  the  trip  and  return. 
I  started  between  four  and  five  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon,  reaching  my  trading  house  on  the 
Iroquois  River  by  midnight,  where  I  changed 
my  horse  and  went  on;  it  was  a  dark,  rainy 
night.  On  reaching  Sugar  Creek  I  found  the 
stream  swollen  out  of  its  banks,  and  my  horse 
refusing  to  cross,  I  was  obliged  to  wait  till 
daylight,  when  I  discovered  that  a  large  tree 
had  fallen  across  the  trail,  making  the  ford 
impassable.  I  swam  the  stream  and  went  on, 
reaching  my  friend  Mr.  Spencer's  house  at 
noon,  tired  out.  Mr.  Spencer  started  imme- 
diately to  give  the  alarm,  asking  for  volunteers 
to  meet  at  Danville  the  next  evening,  with  five 
days'  rations.  By  the  day  following  at  the 
hour  appointed,  one  hundred  men  were  organ- 
ized into  a  company,  and  appointing  a  Mr. 
Morgan,  an  old  frontier  fighter,  as  their  cap- 
tain, immediately  started  for  Chicago,  camping 
that  night  on  the  north  fork  of  the  Vermilion 
River.  It  rained  continually,  the  trail  was 
very  muddy,  and  we  were  obliged  to  swim 
most  of  the  streams  and  many  of  the  large 
sloughs,  but  we  still  pushed  on,  reaching  Fort 
173 


€l)e  ^utoiiiograplip  of 


Dearborn  the  seventh  day  after  my  departure, 
to  the  great  joy  of  the  waiting  people. 

We  re-organized,  and  had  a  force  of  about 
one  hundred  and  fifty  men,  Morgan  command- 
ing. At  the  end  of  thirty  days,  news  came  of 
the  defeat  of  the  Winnebagoes,  and  of  their 
treaty  with  the  commanding  officer,  who  went 
from  Jefferson  Barracks,  as  before  stated. 
Upon  hearing  this,  Morgan  disbanded  his  com- 
pany, who  returned  to  their  homes,  leaving 
Fort  Dearborn  in  charge  of  the  Indian  agent 
as  before. 

Note. — Extract  from  a  letter  written  by  Mr. 
Hubbard  to  his  sister  Elizabeth,  at  Middletown, 
Conn. 

Chicago,  July  25,  1827. 

You  will  undoubtedly  hear  through  the  medium  of 
the  newspapers  of  the  hostilities  lately  commenced 
by  the  Winnebago  Indians. 

Governor  Cass  surprised  us  on  the  2lst  by  his 
arrival,  and  brought  us  the  first  intelligence  of  the 
depredations  committed  by  that  tribe.  They  com- 
menced their  hostilities  at  Prairie  du  Chien,  by 
killing  a  family  in  open  day.  Afterward,  a  party 
of  one  hundred  and  fifty  waylaid  a  boat  descending 
the  Mississippi,  attacked  it  with  great  violence,  and 
after  a  contest  of  two  hours,  withdrew.  The  boat's 
crew  defended  themselves  bravely;  their  loss  was 
two  men  killed  and  six  wounded.  The  Indians  lost 
fourteen  men  killed;  the  number  of  wounded  was 
not  ascertained.  The  Governor  was  at  the  Prairie 
when  the  boat  arrived,  and  counted  two  hundred 
ball  holes  through  her  cargo  box.  All  the  forces 
from  St.  Louis  were  immediately  sent  up  to  the 
Prairie  to  join  those  from  the  St.  Peter's.  It  is 
thought  that  the  forces  collected  at  the  Prairie  amount 

174 


<Diu:tion  ^alton^tafl  JpuBtiarti 

to  seven  thousand  men,  part  of  whom  are  now  doubt- 
less in  the  enemy's  country. 

The  war-club  was  in  circulation  here  during  the 
payment,  with  such  secresy  that  not  one  of  us  knew 
anything  of  it  until  the  Governor  arrived,  when  he 
was  informed  by  a  few  friendly  Indians. 

The  principal  Pottawatomie  Indians  were  sent  for, 
and  a  council  held  on  the  22d,  when  the  Governor 
informed  them  of  every  particular.  They  acknowl- 
edged that  messages  had  been  sent  to  them  from  the 
Winnebagoes,  but  assured  us  of  their  friendship. 
We  do  not  apprehend  the  least  danger  from  them, 
and  those  who  live  on  the  Illinois  River  are  bringing 
their  families  into  our  settlement  for  protection. 
The  inhabitants  of  this  place  are  all  assembled  in  the 
fort.  We  do  not  think  that  there  is  any  danger,  but 
think  it  best  to  be  on  our  guard. » 

The  Governor  left  here  yesterday  for  Green  Bay. 
He  will  send  a  company  of  troops  on  here  immedi- 
ately to  take  possession  of  this  fort.  We  expect 
them  in  twenty  days.  I  shall  not  leave  here  until  I 
see  my  friends  out  of  all  danger.  You  shall  hear 
from  me  again  shortly;  in  the  meantime,  do  not  be 
uneasy  as  to  my  safety.  We  have  vigilant  scouts 
out,  and  get  notice  of  any  party  of  Indians  before 
they  could  surprise  us,  although  I  do  not  think  there 
is  the  least  danger  of  their  making  the  attempt. 
Our  troops  will  give  them  enough  to  attend  to  in 
their  own  villages,  and  the  war  cannot  last  more 
than  twenty  or  thirty  days  before  they  are  all 
destroyed.  Again  I  beg  you  will  not  be  uneasy;  I 
am  in  perfect  safety. 

I  cannot  close  this  communication  without 
adding  my  testimony  regarding  the  character 
and  services  of  that  noble  Indian  chief,  Shaub- 
e-nee.  From  my  first  acquaintance  with  him, 
which  began  in  the  fall  of  l8i8,  to  his  death, 
I  was  impressed  with  the  nobleness  of  his 
175 


€|)e  ^utoBiograj)f)p  of 


character.  Physically,  he  was  as  fine  a  speci- 
men of  a  man  as  I  ever  saw;  tall,  well  propor- 
tioned, strong,  and  active,  with  a  face  express- 
ing great  strength  of  mind  and  goodness  of 
heart.  Had  he  been  favored  with  the  advan- 
tages of  education,  he  might  have  commanded 
a  high  position  among  the  men  of  his  day. 
He  was  remarkable  for  his  integrity,  of  a 
generous  and  forgiving  nature,  always  hos- 
pitable, and  until  his  return  from  the  West,  a 
strictly  temperate  man,  not  only  himself 
abstaining  from  all  intoxicating  liquors,  but 
influencing  his  people  to  do  the  same.  He 
was  ever  a  friend  to  the  white  settlers,  and 
should  be  held  by  them  and  their  descendants 
in  greatful  remembrance.  He  had  an  uncom- 
monly retentive  memory,  and  a  perfect  knowl- 
edge of  this  Western  country.  He  would 
readily  draw  on  the  sand  or  bed  of  ashes,  quite 
a  correct  map  of  the  whole  district  from  the 
the  lakes  west  to  the  Missouri  River,  giving 
general  courses  of  rivers,  designating  towns 
and  places  of  notoriety,  even  though  he  had 
never  seen  them. 

It  has  been  reported  that  Shaub-e-nee  said 
that  Tecumseh  was  killed  by  Col.  R.  M.  John- 
son. This,  I  am  convinced,  is  a  mistake,  for 
I  have  often  conversed  with  him  on  that  sub- 
ject, and  he  invariably  said  that  balls  were 
striking  all  around  them;  by  one  of  them 
Tecumseh  was  killed  and  fell  by  his  side;  that 
no  one  could  tell  who  directed  the  fatal  shot, 
176 


oBurtiott  ^altonjeftall  i^uBfiarli 

unless  it  were  the  person  who  fired  it;    that 
person  was  claimed  to  be  Johnson. 

It  ought  to  be  a  matter  of  regret  and  morti- 
fication to  us  all  that  our  Government  so 
wronged  this  man,  who  so  often  periled  his 
own  life  to  save  those  of  the  whites,  by  with- 
holding from  him  the  title  to  the  land  granted 
him  under  a  solemn  treaty,  the  Commissioners, 
representing  our  Government,  having  given 
him  their  pledge  that  the  land  allotted  him  by 
the  Pottawatomie  Nation  should  be  guaran- 
teed to  him  by  our  Government,  and  he  pro- 
tected in  its  ownership.  He  never  sold  his 
right  to  the  land,  but  by  force  was  driven  from 
it.  When  he  returned  from  the  West  to  take 
possession,  he  found  that  our  Government, 
disregarding  his  rights,  had  sold  it. 

[I  have  no  information  as  to  Mr.  Hubbard's  life 
during  the  years  1828-29  further  than  that  he  was 
engaged  in  a  general  business  at  Danville,  and  still 
retained  his  trading  post  at  Iroc[uois.  During  these 
years  he  dealt  quite  extensively  in  farm  produce,  and 
nad  contracts  tor  furnishing  beef  and  pork  to  the 
troops  stationed  at  Fort  Dearborn.  He  continued 
his  annual  visits  to  Mackinaw,  and  during  his  life  as 
a  fur  trader,  made  twenty-six  trips  to  and  from  that 
island,  coasting  Lake  Michigan  in  an  open  row  boat. 
In  1828  he  went  on  horseback  and  alone  to  Detroit 
without  seeing  any  indications  of  a  white  settlement 
until  he  reached  Ypsilanti,  at  which  place  were  a  few 
log  houses.  In  the  winter  of  1829  he  killed  a  large 
number  of  hogs,  and  not  having  received  the  barrels, 
which  were  to  arrive  by  vessel,  he  piled  the  pork  up 
on  the  river  bank,  near  where  Rush  street  now  is, 
and  kept  it  in  that  manner  until  the  arrival  of  barrels 
177 


€f)e  3lutotiiograpJ)p  of 


in  the  spring.  This  was  the  beginning  of  the  packing 
industry  in  Chicago.  During  the  summer  of  1830  he, 
for  the  first  time,  returned  to  the  East  and  visited 
his  mother  and  family  at  Middletown,  Conn.  His 
sisters  Mary  (afterwards  Mrs.  Dr.  Clark)  and  Abby 
(afterwards  Mrs.  A.  L.  Castleman)  returned  with 
him  to  his  home  in  Danville,  where  they  continued 
to  reside  until  they  were  married. — H.  E.  H.] 

The  winter  of  1830-31  was  the  most  severe 
one  I  ever  experienced  in  the  Indian  country, 
and  was  always  remembered  and  spoken  of  by 
the  early  settlers  as  the  "winter  of  the  big 
snow."  I  was  employed  in  gathering  together 
hogs  to  drive  to  Chicago  to  kill  and  sell  to  the 
settlers  and  soldiers  at  Fort  Dearborn,  a 
business  in  which  I  was  then  regularly  engaged. 
I  also  had  a  store  at  Danville  stocked  with 
goods  suitable  for  trade  with  the  white  settlers 
of  that  section  of  country. 

On  the  seventh  of  November,  1830,  I 
started  out  to  gather  up  my  hogs,  which  were 
in  small  droves  at  different  points  on  the  road. 
The  snow  was  then  about  seven  inches  deep, 
and  it  continued  to  fall  for  four  or  five  days. 
I  had  men  to  help  me,  and  wagons  containing 
corn  for  the  hogs,  in  which  were  also  our  blan- 
kets and  utensils. 

When  we  left  Beaver  Creek  marsh  the 
weather  had  changed,  and  the  day  was  rainy 
and  misty.  At  dark  we  had  reached  the 
Kankakee  and  camped  in  a  little  hollow,  hav- 
ing left  the  hogs  a  mile  or  so  back.  It  rained 
hard  a  portion  of  the  night,  and  then  the  wind 
178 


changed  and  it  began  freezing.  The  water 
gradually  worked  under  the  blanket  and  buffalo 
robe  in  which  I  had  wrapped  myself,  and  on 
attempting  to  rise  I  found  myself  frozen 
fast  to  the  ground,  and  had  much  difficulty  in 
freeing  myself. 

In  the  morning  we  gathered  the  hogs  and 
drove  them  to  the  hollow  in  which  we  had 
camped,  where  we  left  them  with  our  horses 
and  started  to  find  Billy  Caldwell,  who  I  knew 
was  camped  somewhere  near  Yellow  Head 
Point,  which  was  about  six  miles  from  Kan- 
kakee. Following  up  the  creek  we  found  him 
without  difficulty,  and  were  hospitably  received 
by  both  Caldwell  and  his  wife.  Mrs.  Caldwell 
made  us  some  tea,  and  never  in  my  life  did  I 
drink  such  quantities  of  anything  as  I  did  of  that. 

We  remained  at  Caldwell's  a  day  and  night, 
when  we  again  started  the  hogs  for  Chicago, 
where  we  arrived  in  about  thirty  days.  The 
snow  was  about  two  feet  deep  on  a  level  and 
four  or  five  feet  in  the  drifts.  I  killed  and 
delivered  my  pork,  and  with  empty  wagons 
started  on  my  return  to  Iroquois.  Much  of 
the  way  we  were  compelled  to  cut  a  passage 
through  the  snow  and  ice,  and  were  ten  days 
in  making  the  trip.  We  had  lost  some  of  the 
hogs,  and  on  our  return  we  found  one  poor 
brute  under  the  snow,  where  he  had  managed 
to  subsist  upon  the  roots  of  grass.  Of  course 
we  killed  him  to  save  him  from  the  slow  tor- 
ture of  starvation. 

179 


€!je  ^utoliiograpftp  of 


It  was  a  bitter  cold  night  when  we  arrived 
at  the  Kankakee  River,  which  we  found  very 
high  and  full  of  floating  ice,  with  no  possibility 
of  fording  it.  My  wagon  was  one  of  those 
heavy,  large-box  vehicles  called  a  "Pennsylvania 
wagon,"  the  box  of  which  we  chinked  with 
snow,  over  which  we  poured  water,  which 
soon  froze  and  made  it  water  tight.  Into  this 
we  put  our  harness,  blankets,  and  utensils,  and 
using  it  for  a  boat  passed  safely  over,  the 
horses  being  made  to  swim  after.  From  this 
point  we  progressed  at  the  rate  of  five  to  eight 
miles  a  day,  and  camped  at  Beaver  Creek  the 
evening  of  the  second  day  thereafter.  It  had 
again  rained,  and  all  the  channels  and  streams 
were  high,  and  Beaver  Creek  had  overflowed 
its  banks,  so  I  determined  to  go  from  there  to 
Iroquois  alone  and  send  a  man  back  with  a 
horse  and  canoe  to  help  get  the  others  across. 
I  cut  a  diy  tree  for  a  raft  and  got  onto  it, 
when  an  Indian,  who  was  one  of  the  party, 
said  he  wanted  to  cross  also.  I  told  him  it 
was  impossible;  that  the  tree  would  only  hold 
one,  and  he  must  wait  for  the  canoe  which  I 
would  send.  We  had  a  long  rope  which  he 
proposed  to  tie  to  the  log,  and  so  draw  it  back 
after  I  had  crossed,  and  to  this  I  foolishly 
assented.  When  I  had  reached  the  middle 
of  the  stream  I  found  I  could  advance  no 
further,  and  on  looking  back  found  the  Indian 
was  holding  the  rope  too  tight,  and  I  called  to 
him  to  let  go.  On  his  doing  so,  and  the  log 
i8o 


oBurtion  ^alton^tail  Ipuibbarti 

being  released,  it  turned  suddenly  over  and 
threw  me  into  the  stream.  I  swam  ashore, 
and  when  I  landed  my  clothes  were  frozen 
stiff,  and  I  was  near  perishing  with  the  cold. 

My  favorite  horse,  "Croppy,"  who  had 
watched  my  departure  and  progress,  was  much 
excited,  and  neighed,  pawed  the  ground,  and 
whinnied  so  that  I  decided  to  allow  him  to 
come  across.  I  called  to  Vasseur  and  told  him 
to  get  my  dry  neips  and  moccasins  from  my 
saddle-bags,  place  them  on  the  horse's  head 
under  the  headstall,  and  let  him  loose.  I 
called  to  Croppy  and  he  swam  across  to  me. 

The  bank  was  precipitous,  and  I  had  great 
difficulty  in  getting  him  up,  he  having  drifted 
down  below  the  ford,  but  I  finally  succeeded. 
I  was  sheeted  with  ice,  but  by  alternately 
riding  and  running,  made  the  sixteen  miles  to 
my  house  in  good  time,  and  sent  Portier  back 
with  a  horse  and  canoe  loaded  with  provisions 
for  the  men  and  corn  for  the  horses. 

The  canoe  was  used  as  a  sleigh,  and  in  it 
Portier  rode  and  drove.  He  reached  the  men 
late  at  night  and  with  his  feet  badly  frozen. 
The  day  following  all  crossed  the  stream  and 
arrived  at  home.  We  had  been  twenty  days 
traveling  seventy-five  miles. 

I  had  a  small  outfit  up  the  Kankakee  River, 
about  six  or  eight  miles  from  where  "Hub- 
bard's Trail"  crossed  the  Kankakee,  where 
two  men  were  located.  A  day  or  so  before 
the  occurrence  above  narrated,  one  of  these 
i8i 


oBurlion  ^alton^taH  i^ubbarti 

men  started  for  my  trading  house,  and  in  at- 
tempting to  cross  Beaver  Creek,  at  or  near  the 
place  where  I  crossed,  was  drowned.  Not 
returning  as  soon  as  he  was  expected,  his 
companion  sent  an  Indian  to  notify  me  of  his 
absence,  and  search  was  made  for  him,  but 
nothing  could  be  seen  or  heard  of  him.  The 
following  spring  an  Indian  going  up  Beaver 
Creek  in  a  canoe,  found  his  skeleton  lodged  in 
the  branches  of  a  fallen  tree,  about  ten  miles 
below  the  crossing,  to  which  place  it  had  been 
carried  by  the  current. 


Note. — The  foregoing  narrative  brings  the  story 
of  Mr.  Hubbard  down  to  November,  1830,  where  it 
ends  abruptly,  having  covered  just  one  third  of  his 
life.  In  the  Introduction  preceding  this  short  Auto- 
biography, an  attempt  has  been  made  merely  to 
enumerate  the  activities  of  the  fifty-six  years  that 
followed,  as  they  could  be  gathered  from  letters, 
memoranda,  personal  reminiscences  of  contempo- 
raries, and  from  the  pages  of  our  city's  recorded 
history,  which  must  have  read  quite  otherwise  than 
they  do  had  it  not  been  for  Gurdon  S.  Hubbard,  who 
has  been  called  "The  PrototTOe  of  Chicago." 

C.  M.  M. 


182 


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Return  ttiis  material  to  the  library 

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^;, 


|i|.0CTl7 

APR  0  4  ^^^' 


1)94 


01   OCT0320(ID 


Form  L-9 
23m-10, •11(2191) 


THE  LreRARY 

insaVERS/i  Y  OF  CALIFORNIA 


484.3     Hubbard  - 
H85A2     ITie  autobiog- 
1911       raphy  of 

Gurdon  iialtorv^" 
stall  Hubbard. 


1158  00283  0171 


000  019  706 


F 

484,3 
H85A2 
1911 


